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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829997">The Encyclopedia of Bucky Barnes' New Beginnings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashdeanmanns/pseuds/ashdeanmanns'>ashdeanmanns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoption, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Jewish Holidays, Jewish Pietro Maximoff, Jewish Wanda Maximoff, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Married Life, Parent Death, Parenthood, Top Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:27:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashdeanmanns/pseuds/ashdeanmanns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes had a plan. No kids (at least for the time being), focus on his career and his relationship with the best person he had ever met. Being the best husband he could be was a challenge, but according to Steve, he did amazing without even trying.</p><p>But that may not always be the case.</p><p>Being in a relationship was always something that came easy to him. He never understood the belief that marriage caused strain. He and Steve got married, went on a roadtrip that they could barely even call a honeymoon, and then resumed every day life. Now they just had two rings in the mix, that they felt when they entwined their fingers.</p><p>But a four year old kid that Bucky hadn't known existed? That the idea of had never been thought of? Whose mother abandoned him in an airport five years before, in a state he had never been to? That could definitely cause some problems.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PART ONE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What's up, peeps? This was originally going to be a long one shot, but after I got past 5,000 words in only three scenes and had MUCH more to write, I figured a mini fic would be more functional! I'm just going to continue letting it run its course. The fic (and readers) will lead me on this new journey.</p><p>This is just an idea that I was playing around with, so I began to write it between online school lessons...sometimes during.</p><p>Anyways! I hope y'all enjoy. And if anyone is reading this and also another fic (particularly In All Our Years and The Backup), I'll be getting back to those hopefully soon.</p><p>Tags will be added as I keep writing. I divided the first 5,000 words into two chapters and the beginning of a third.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So I'd like this fic to go on for a while. It's something that's much easier to write than my MCU-Divergent fics, and it's a nice exercise while writer's block and school are bothering me.</p><p>Instead of doing sequels, I'm going to split this fic into parts. Each part will have a little stage of Bucky's kid's life, as she grows up. It'll be cute. And we also get to see Stucky and Friends throughout the years!</p><p>POV's may switch for certain parts, I'm not sure. But I do know that Part One is strictly Bucky.</p><p>Hope you guys like the fic (:</p><p>Love, ADM 💛</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One ∆ Airports? Better Than Expected</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A loud moan tumbled from Bucky's red, parted lips. His palms were pressed against his husband's broad shoulders, fingernails pressing crescent moons into his golden skin; messed up dark hair forming a curtain around his flushed face. He was crossing over into overstimulation - rolling his hips down on Steve's amazing cock, the head pressed right up against his prostate - but he wasn't shying away, wouldn't even if Steve's hands weren't clenched around his strong, muscled thighs, inadvertently keeping him down.</p><p>A gasp stuck in his throat, he zealously pushed his hips back as he groaned, "Steve, I'm -"</p><p>Steve pushed his hips up to completely meet Bucky's, using the hands on his thighs to pull him down. His voice was thick as he said, in the back of his throat, "I know, baby." His head fell back to rest on his pillow, hair an absolute mess from the events that had previously transpired - AKA a heated makeout as Bucky had been fingered open, for this very point. </p><p>They'd certainly gotten distracted, around at the time they usually either ate or were starting to think about dinner. The sun was soon going to set, and thankfully the curtains were pulled closed. The light in their bedroom was still on, and this wasn't exactly something to be seen by their immediate, elderly neighbors. Especially as Bucky orgasmed, a spasmodic tremor running through his body, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk a few times before settling. The sight, the feel of Bucky clenching around him, obviously did something right for Steve, whose lower back arched slightly as his head tipped back to press into the pillow as he came.</p><p>Panting, Bucky's hips came to a gradual stop, becoming completely still as his tensed muscles began to melt post-orgasm. He shifted his weight from his hands, becoming fully seated on Steve's softening member, and smoothed his palms down over his husband's well-defined pecs. Then back up, fingers brushing over his throat to cradle his defined jaw. Bucky leaned down to press a soft, lazy kiss to Steve's lips, which still had the evidence of when Bucky had bit at his bottom lip.</p><p>Taking advantage of the new position, Steve wound his arms around Bucky's waist and rolled them over. While the blond wasn't fully on top of him, it was enough to not have to change their arrangement too much. Before, Steve's kisses had been all encompassing, as if he were doing his best to devour Bucky's soul. But now, while still as loving and passionate, were much more sweet.</p><p>"You're never going to not be good at that," Steve murmured against his lips.</p><p>Bucky couldn't help but laugh, still a little breathless. "I could break my hip one day. You never know."</p><p>Steve sighed and shifted to pull his right arm out from underneath them, raising his hand to knock his knuckles against the wooden headboard. The action earned a teasing eye roll from Bucky, which then resulted in a light tug on a lock of dark brown hair.</p><p>They had met in the most unlikely of places - an airport, after Bucky had been abandoned by his then-girlfriend in an unfamiliar state, North Carolina. Steve had been on a bit of a vacation, taking time away from normal. Disconnecting from life, for a week.</p><p>And what a week that had been. Bucky had never really had the chance to explore the possibility of men, despite knowing that he was bisexual. He'd learned exactly how it felt to have someone inside you, thrusting and grinding and hitting that sweet spot deep inside just right. Steve had completely torn Bucky apart, giving him a limited, desperate vocabulary that came out between or alongside needy moans and the occasional wave of overwhelmed tears.</p><p>They never had doubts about each other. They went back home, having learned early on that they lived close, and continued to see each other. Five years had passed, and there was still nothing that Bucky would ever change - besides maybe not letting his oldest younger sister be their wedding planner, or buying the expensive experimental lingerie set that ripped for no fucking reason as soon as Bucky first put it on. But those things had nothing to do with Steve; who was quite annoyingly the best person he had ever had the honor of meeting.</p><p>Good things came of Dot leaving him high and dry. Very good things.</p><p>Sure, they couldn't have kids, and everyone liked to point that out. But Steve always swore up and down that while he would love to have them, he didn't need them to be happy. Bucky was in a similar boat. He wasn't the biggest fan of kids, hadn't been even when he was a kid, but if he had a child of his own he would give them his soul.</p><p>Their bed was this safe space, Steve's embrace was his haven. This man was the person meant to be his, as it was in return. The inscribed rings on their fingers proved as much, as did every kiss no matter where on their bodies it was placed, the random breakfasts in bed, family holidays, the lovely hamsa Steve had found that immediately made him think of Bucky, the bathroom mirror that had seen so much more than it ever signed up for or deserved.</p><p>Life with Steve was complete and utter bliss. On both the busy and uneventful days. Even when they fought.</p><p>Steve pecked at his lips again, before moving even more. He propped himself up on his elbows, pulling out of the welcoming embrace of Bucky's body and then getting off the bed. He tied off the condom and walked into the connected master bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "If you join me, I'll make that mac and cheese recipe you like so much."</p><p>Bucky's lips curled. Steve knew him so well. He rolled over and slid off the bed, meeting Steve in their penguin themed bathroom - it had started as a joke that neither had backed out of. The countertop had already been a nice white, grey, and black marble, and they had wanted to paint the walls painted a medium grey. The towels and washcloths were an array of pale yellow and black, and the outer shower curtain was an image of a waddle of penguins.</p><p>
  <em>Steve's brow suddenly furrowed, absently looking at the laptop in his lap as he became lost in thought.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To get him out of the trance, Bucky said, "Yes, you left the oven on."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The blond scoffed. "What are a group of penguins called? I swear I know it, I just can't remember."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bucky, already on his phone, X'd out of Pinterest and opened Google. He typed in 'penguin group name' and pressed enter. Quoting the main answer the search engine had given him, he read to Steve with a faux enthusiasm, "'A group of penguins in the water is called a raft, but on land they're called a waddle! Other names for a group of penguins include rookery, colony, and huddle.'"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"...They're called a waddle?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bucky nodded, confirming with a bland, "Yeah."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Honest to god?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I think it's adorable."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Steve turned regretful eyes back on the laptop. "The shower curtain is being ordered."</em>
</p><p>As Steve got the shower running, the water at the exact temperature he liked, Bucky found himself looking in the mirror. He raked his hand through his barely-shoulder-length wavy brown hair, pushing it back away from his face. His eyes found the little scar on his shoulder, from when he had tripped in the kitchen and tore his skin on a sharp corner of the wooden counter.</p><p>Before he knew it, Steve was coming up from a step behind him, ducking his arms underneath his own and looping them around his waist. He used the embrace to pull them completely flush, pushing his face into the crook of his neck. Bucky tipped his head to give Steve full access, leaning back into the hug. Setting his arms over his husband's, Bucky gently smiled as slow, soft kisses were peppered on his throat. </p><p>This? This was pure contentment. As Steve always filled him with. And it was even better once they stepped into the shower, the warm water practically making Bucky melt in Steve's arms. He stood there, in front of the spray, the middle man that kept Steve from it, as he was guided to tip his head back and get his hair wet. He would forever love the drag of Steve's fingers through his hair, the careful motions with which he worked shampoo and conditioner into the thick strands, then rinsed out the suds. When Steve moved onto the body wash, Bucky rested his head on his broad shoulders, and smiled when a gentle kiss was pressed to his head.</p><p>"I love you," he murmured against Steve's skin, winding his arms around his narrow waist. Steve's hands were working over his body in soothing circular motions, covering his skin with the Dove Men's they usually ended up sharing.</p><p>Steve ran his hand down the center of Bucky's back, following the slope of his spine. "Yeah?" he asked, voice dry and a smile on his lips. "I happen to be pretty fond of you, too."</p><p>Bucky scoffed, lightly swatting at Steve's butt. "I profess my love, and you say you're 'pretty fond?'" He leaned back in Steve's arms, being his dramatic, sarcastic self. "I feel cheated. Used -"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up." Steve tugged him back up, meeting him halfway to passionately kiss him. Bucky hummed, pulling one arm out from underneath Steve's, to slide his palm around to the nape of Steve's neck.</p><p>But his phone suddenly blaring pulled them back into the real world. He huffed, leaning back in Steve's arms again. "Should I...?"</p><p>Steve kissed his cheek, and nuzzled at his temple, before letting him go. "Go ahead. I'll finish up in here."</p><p>Bucky smiled and turned his head to peck at his lips, before doing a quick rinse of his upper body. He turned his body to trade spots with his husband, to step out of the bathtub, and pulled the shower curtain back closed behind him. He pulled his yellow towel off of the metal rod, dried himself off enough so he wasn't dripping. Scrunching at his hair, he walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, picking up his phone to call back the most recent number just as the notification for the voicemail went through. As he listened to the dial tone, he put it on speaker so he could continue drying off.</p><p>"<em>Hello?</em>"</p><p>"Hi," he responded, a little too quick. "I was running a second late, I'm sorry for missing your call. Who is this?"</p><p>"<em>This is Soyosset General Hospital. Am I speaking to James Barnes?</em>"</p><p>Bucky's brows furrowed, turning his back to the phone to open the dresser. "This is he."</p><p>"<em>Your name is listed as the emergency contact for a Dolores Eynon." Bucky opened his mouth but found that he didn't have any words, and the woman went on. "Ms. Eynon had been diagnosed with breast cancer last year, and the cells quickly spread to her lungs. She was just brought into the emergency room about twenty minutes ago. She's asking for you.</em>"</p><p>Bucky was silent, staring down at the blue boxer briefs he held in his hands. Dot had cancer? Why the hell would she be asking for him? But behind him, the shower turned off, and Bucky shook himself from his daze. "Okay." He stepped into the underwear and picked up a pair of thick fuzzy socks, and strode back over to the phone sitting on the nightstand. "Thank you. I'll be there soon."</p><p>He hung up, just as Steve called over, "What was it?"</p><p>Bucky looked up, watching as Steve fixed the grey towel around his hips and walked into the bedroom. With the bed between them, with the confusion hanging over his head, he said flatly, "Dot has cancer."</p><p>Steve cocked his head. "Dot, as in -?</p><p>"The girlfriend who abandoned me in North Carolina? Yeah." He dropped down to sit on the bed, putting on his plaid black and white socks. "She was diagnosed with breast and lung cancer last year. She was admitted into the ER and is asking for me." He shook his head, letting his palm drop down on his calf, where he squeezed the muscle and skin. "If she's asking for me, it must be important, right?"</p><p>To give his answer, Steve tossed a pair of comfortable joggers at him. He said, gently, "You're going to regret it if you don't go."</p><p>Knowing that he was right, Bucky stood up again and put on the navy green pants, sliding the phone into a pocket. He walked up to Steve and put his hands above his hips, tilting his head back to kiss him. There wasn't that great of a height difference, but Steve was over six foot and Bucky was just a few inches shy of the marker. "You're right."</p><p>"I'm always right," Steve said in a slight sing-song tone, quirking an eyebrow.</p><p>Bucky scoffed and lifted a hand to smack at his side. Steve yelped, skittering away to avoid whatever else Bucky may or may not have under his sleeve. Stepping past him, Bucky pulled a random band tee from his collection and one of Steve's sweatshirts - it lacked a logo, was a solid yellow besides the pastel bleach stains and the splotches of colorful acrylic and oil paint. He hastily pulled on the Muse shirt, then the sweater that was just big enough to be immensely comfortable. He turned and bounded back into the bathroom, doing a quick brush of his hair. Though he had a preference of not doing it, he pulled his wet hair back into a secure bun before leaving the little room. "I'm off." He promised, "I'll keep you updated."</p><p>Steve glanced from where he had turned his attention on to putting on flannel pajama pants, opting for going commando. "Just let me know when you're on your way back, and I'll make the mac and cheese."</p><p>Bucky smiled at him and said, "I will," before he turned to dart from the room. He moved briskly down the little hall that ultimately led to the stairwell that turned ninety degrees halfway down. He walked to the door, where his tennis shoes sat, always ready to be pulled on at the very last second. He then went into the kitchen, pulling his keys off the hook and his wallet off the counter. He rifled through the keys, selecting the one for the garage door as he opened said entrance/exit and stepped down onto the wooden steps. He locked the deadbolt and knob, pressed the remote to fold up the garage door, then turned and headed to his car.</p><p>When he shut the door behind him, he sighed, hands falling into his lap. He was seriously going to the hospital, to see Dot of all people? And he still couldn't think of a reason she would be asking for him - again, of all people!</p><p>But as he had told Steve, it must be important. So he flipped his car key out of the case and stuck it into the ignition, turning it as he checked that he had his main mask hooked around the gearshift. Though he had another one rung through his keys (and a few ponytail holders, while he was at it), just in case, the one he usually kept in the car was his favorite.</p><p>He twisted in his seat to back out of the garage, only turning back around when his back wheels were on the street.</p><p>Bucky was really going to do this. He had a feeling that he truly had to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Two ∆ Without A Dad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stepping into a hospital was a surreal experience. He hadn't ever liked hospitals - who did? But the feeling they gave him was much more than what most others felt. He hadn't been in one since his father had passed away two years before, having a heart attack and then another one on the table.</p><p>Only, this time, he was met by a woman sitting at a little folding table, that had multiple boxes of disposable face masks. He quickly took his own off and replaced it with the bright blue gauze-like one and leaned forward so she could take his temperature with the white and purple no-contact wand, pinching the thin metal strip at the bridge of his nose as he continued on his way after his temperature was approved. He figured that the main desk wouldn't be too bad of a starting point.</p><p>He stopped in front of the plastic boundary, and the woman at the computer looked up at him. Her bronze bangs hung down, creating a curtain that were pulled to the sides to reveal her eyes, the rest of her hair in a ponytail behind her head. Her voice was sweet, a smile in her eyes, as she asked, "How can I help you, sir?"</p><p>"I'm looking for Dolores Eynon. She's in the ER." With the bottle on the desk in front of the screen of plastic, he pumped some hand sanitizer into his hands, and began to scrub it into his skin.</p><p>She nodded, and clacked at her keyboard. After a moment, she informed, "She's in room twenty six. She has two other people with her. Just through those doors." She pointed to the left, where two heavy wooden doors closed off the rooms.</p><p>He inclined his head, and walked in that direction. He pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands to push the metal bar, opening one of the double doors. He didn't let it slam shut behind him, and walked down the clean white hall as he scanned the plates besides each room for the number twenty six. He turned a corner, and just a few rooms away, there it was. The curtain pulled shut, but the sliding glass door left open. A sudden, unexplainable desperation ran through him, and he started toward the room, pushing the curtain out the way as he ducked in.</p><p>The sight that met him certainly wasn't one he had prepared for.</p><p>Dot had always been the stereotypical definition of beautiful - at least, what Bucky could relate to it. A perfect hourglass frame, smooth skin, red waves of hair that bounced and curled in a way that Bucky would've loved to draw if he had the ability. She was covered in freckles, that Bucky'd trace invisible lines into with his fingertips.</p><p>And there she was - a bandana tied around loosely around her head, a tiredness hanging to her frail frame. Each breath she took caused her body to tremble and shake, like each one was a separate earthquake. She turned her green eyes on him, and he found that his own were pricking with tears. He blinked a few times, to will them away.</p><p>The two people she had with her were still by her side. A young woman sitting in a chair close to the bed, someone he knew. Julia, Dot's best friend, sat with a toddler half on the bed and half in her lap.</p><p>As if the past had never happened, as if she wasn't obviously on her deathbed, Dot smiled at him - but she still looked so unbelievably tired. She gently exclaimed, sounding so glad that he was there, "Bucky!"</p><p>He sighed softly, his shoulders drooping. He started forward, grabbing the doctor's stool and pulling it up beside the bed. Careful of the thin tubes and whatever else, he rested his elbow on the bed and folded her small hand in both of his.</p><p>When he didn't say anything, Julia stood up, picking up the toddler for just a moment to set her on her feet. She then took the little girl's hand, leading her out of the room.</p><p>Now that they were alone, it became even more awkward. The ice was thick - five years thick. And they both knew it.</p><p>"How have you been?" she asked, her voice soft. She tilted her head, looking at his hands. "Is that a ring I see?"</p><p>He scoffed. "It <em>is</em> a ring you see."</p><p>"What's she like?"</p><p>"<em>He</em> is annoying and obnoxious, but he makes good food and won me over with pancakes."</p><p>She giggled. "Of course he did." She tried to squeeze one of his hands, but he barely felt it. "I'm really happy for you, Bucky. Truly."</p><p>As nice as it was to just ignore the multiple elephants in the room, it wouldn't sit right if he just let the questions go unanswered. Shaking his head, he asked, "What am I doing here, Dot?"</p><p>She sighed. "Yeah. I have some things to tell you. And some things to apologize for." Bucky began to mentally prepare himself for whatever it may be, as she went on. "I'm sorry I left you at an airport. When I said I left something behind, I really meant..." She inhaled, the breath scraping in her throat. "I figured out that I was pregnant."</p><p>His heart stopped. "You what?"</p><p>"You said that you didn't like kids! I was terrified of you abandoning me. So I did it for you."</p><p>"You left me at an airport in a city that I had never been to and didn't give me the choice of being in my child's life! How could you do that?" Though he wouldn't ever change the fact that he met Steve, a volcano erupted in his chest at the fact that he hadn't been able to be part of his kid's life. But then everything settled into place, and his eyes widened. "That..." He glanced at the doorway, before turning back. "Oh god - that was my kid, wasn't it? That was my kid."</p><p>"Her name's Olivia. She looks like you, you'll see." She paused, inhaling deeply again. "I need to ask something of you."</p><p>Bucky squeezed her hand again, urging her on. Staying silent, no matter how upset she was making him.</p><p>"I'm not going to make it through this," she said, softly. "I haven't been, and I can tell that I don't have much left. I'm tired, Bucky, so tired. And I don't want my baby girl to remember me like this. I, um...I need you to take full custody of her. Soon."</p><p>~∆~</p><p>Bucky was reeling. He left Dot's room in a daze and walked back out to the waiting area, wrestling his phone out of his pocket. He fumbled with it, managing to find Steve's contact and press it as he made his way into a small square formed by the classic hospital couches and chairs, lifting it to his ear as he sat down facing the emergency room doors.</p><p>The dial tone wrung too long, before Steve answered, "What's going on?"</p><p>Bucky placed his elbows on his knees, hunching over in the uncomfortable seat. "I, uh -" He pushed his hand back through his hair. "I didn't want to tell you this over text. And I shouldn't be telling you this over the phone, but here we are, right?"</p><p>"Buck," he warned, voice low and short.</p><p>"Dot left me there because she was pregnant and terrified of what I would think," he forced out, quickly. Then immediately fell silent, to match what was coming from Steve's end. But it came to the point where he had to say, "Steve?" with a tone he never associated with himself - small, tight, fractured.</p><p>"I have no idea what to say," Steve muttered. After another beat, he urged, "You gotta give me more to work with, babe."</p><p>"Her name's Olivia. She's about four and a half." He gnawed at his bottom lip, before going on, "Dot wants me to take custody of her."</p><p>Steve was quiet for a few moments, before he asked, obviously carefully choosing his words, "What do you think about that?"</p><p>"What do you think about that?"</p><p>"Not my kid, not my choice - unless I ever end up adopting her. Bucky, I will work with whatever you choose to do. The ball's in your court. It's stuck in a ditch in left field, only you can get it out."</p><p>The metaphor made him scoff, and it made so much sense that what he needed was to hear Steve's voice. He said, with a deep crack in his voice, "I <em>never</em> really saw myself as a dad."</p><p>"I know you didn't."</p><p>"My dad's dead," he added, helplessly.</p><p>"I know." There was another tone in Steve's voice - his own grief for George Barnes, who had taken him in as if he were his own son.</p><p>"I don't like kids. An-and I don't know this girl. I can't just waltz into her life like this, that isn't fair. For her, or for me and you. I have no right to ask you to have any part of this, or to just go along with whatever I decide."</p><p>"Our wedding vows kind of did. You're stupid to think -"</p><p>"Steve," he interrupted, wanting him to not finish that sentence. He was right. Their vows binded them through better or worse, and that included all the ups and downs of life. Even ignoring that, Steve wouldn't turn a blind eye to this. He would encourage Bucky through this, be a comforting pillar and a shoulder to cry on. He huffed, using his hand to shake out his hair. "We don't have anything for her."</p><p>"Easy fix!" he exclaimed. "I can start moving some things so her room can be upstairs or downstairs. She could sleep in our room tonight - I changed the bedding and put the other one in the wash -"</p><p>"Didn't expect anything less," he said, fondly.</p><p>"Thank you - and we can go and get her things whenever she's ready to. Or, if Dot lasts longer than predicted, we can make her a second bedroom and it's up to her whatever she wants to bring over."</p><p>Bucky was silent, completely moved by Steve's willingness and sensibility. His voice wavered as he said, sarcastically, "Aren't you all well-thought out?"</p><p>"Well, one of us has to be quick on our feet."</p><p>"Here's a harder question - work. I'm not quitting my job for a part-time position. I worked really hard to get where I am, and so have you. That makes me a horrible person? I can deal with that. She's -"</p><p>"Preschool age. If she isn't already enrolled into a class, we can put her in one. Wanda works from home, she loves kids, I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping us out until we get used to the change. Cleaning up the loose ends, like picking her up if neither of us can."</p><p>Bucky pursed his lips. His cousin - that was more like a best friend - loved kids. She was always happy to help, whether it was taking Rebecca's mind off of wedding planning or helping painting the house Steve and Bucky had bought together. And Bucky did the same for her. "...That's true."</p><p>"We can talk more when you get home, okay? It'll be easier if we're face to face. And I don't want to take you away from Dot and Olivia any longer."</p><p>Bucky inhaled deeply, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling heavily. "Okay. That's fine...I love you. And I'll get back to you about dinn -"</p><p>The ER doors burst open, and out ran Julia. Her tight arms held a sobbing and screaming Olivia to her chest, tears clouding her own eyes. The toddler kicked and hit at Julia, trying to get her to put her down. Unintelligible in her tears, the little girl was in soul-wracking anguish, yelling for the only parent she had ever been able to know.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Three ∆ As Good As It Can Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky closed his car door after setting up the car seat and getting Olivia into the back. She refused to look at him, or even speak to him, so all communication had been done with Julia between them. But now they were alone. And Bucky had no idea how to talk to this little girl, that seemed to hate his very existence.</p><p>He inhaled gratefully as he took off the disposable mask, taking his usual one out of his pocket to put it back around the gearshift. "You can take off your mask, if you want." Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her take the disposable mask off. </p><p>Dot was right - she did look a lot like him. His dark wavy-borderline-curly hair, his winter ocean eyes, his mouth, his cheekbones. But she had Dot's freckles, her adorable button nose.</p><p>Turning back around, he took his phone out of his pocket as he asked, "You like mac and cheese?"</p><p>"Yeah," she said, her soft voice hoarse.</p><p>"That's good." He opened up his messages, and sent 'Dot died. I'm bringing Olivia with me, so you may want to start dinner' as he added, "My husband makes really good mac and cheese. It's an important part of our relationship."</p><p>"...Husband?" she asked, sounding incredibly confused. Bucky wasn't surprised - knowing that he and Dot had been together, it seemed like that wasn't an option.</p><p>"Yeah. Steve's amazing, and he's excited to meet you."</p><p>He was met with silence, and he quietly sighed as he turned on the engine and set the gearshift into drive. It was going to take time, he knew that. But he couldn't understand why she hated him the way she did, and hoped this was just a stubborn part of the grief.</p><p>He continued to overthink as he drove back home, hands white-knuckled around the wheel. Making a mental checklist of everything he now had to do on top of everything he previously had, then rewriting it as he thought of more and more. But he finally turned down his street, and suddenly something twisted in his gut, this need for Steve, to hug him, to talk this chaos out with him.</p><p>As he slowly maneuvered the small SUV into the driveway, he reached up to press the garage remote, to open the door. It pulled up, and, when he could fit, he led the car into his open side. When he was in place, he pressed the close button, and turned and pulled his keys from the ignition the engine turning off and the pure silence smothering them. He shook himself from his daze, so he wouldn't end up sitting there for another half hour, and got out of his seat, pushing the door shut behind him as he moved to open Olivia's. She was trying, but he intervened and unclipped her car seat, holding an offering hand out for her, just in case, as she pushed herself out of it and hopped out of the car. She got out of the way and he closed the door before they both walked up to the door that connected them to the kitchen inside. He flicked through his keys, unlocked the knob and deadbolt, and pushed the door open.</p><p>Steve was standing at the stove, in the flannel pajama pants Bucky had left him in, a black T-shirt added to the ensemble. He looked over at them as they walked in, Olivia moving slow as she took in the new location. Steve opened his mouth to greet her, but closed it when she brushed past him and walked out of the kitchen to see what was next.</p><p>Steve muttered something under his breath and turned his eyes on Bucky. He noted, "You look exhausted."</p><p>"I am," he huffed. Steve reached out and set his hand on his hip, tugging him closer until he was in his arms. Bucky dropped a chaste peck to the crook of Steve's neck, then raised his head to say under his breath, "I had my evening set in stone. Get well-fucked, eat, and then pass out immediately after. I was so close to getting two of three!"</p><p>Steve laughed lightly, and kissed his cheek. "I'll take that as a compliment."</p><p>Bucky pressed his smiling lips to Steve's, and carefully pulled away from the gentle embrace. "I should get back to her."</p><p>"It's almost done," he promised.</p><p>Bucky turned his back, walking out of the kitchen into their little nook of a dining room, then the comfortable, homey living room; both of which were often graced with the presences of their family and friends. Thor, Hilde, and Tony often blessed the grounds with smooth scotch, reeked of the occasional potlucks (that hadn't happened in too long, due to the pandemic), echoed with the laughter of Sam and Natasha's twin boys, swelled with the vinyl jazz and swing albums that Bucky unashamedly loved.</p><p>It wasn't just a room. Just as this house wasn't just a house. It was a home, much more than Bucky's crappy apartment ever was. That cramped five-hundred-square-foot monstrosity had many memories, but it was just purely where Bucky lived. It was where Steve picked him up from, for their first date after they came back from North Carolina. They had come back after dinner, drank cupcake wine out on the small balcony just barely big enough for two people, much less two men with broad shoulders. They sweetly kissed under a blanket of stars that was nowhere near as crisp as the sight in North Carolina, but Bucky loved it all the same, as he fell in love with a stupid blond wanna-be bodybuilder.</p><p>Olivia walked into the first floor hallway as Bucky crossed into the living area. He let her scope out the house, watching from afar to make sure she didn't get into anything and hurt herself. She knew he was there, he noticed the glance over her shoulder, but she kept going. Didn't even look back when she started up the beige-carpeted stairs.</p><p>She glanced into the dark room that was Steve's workspace, filled to the brim with art supplies and original works if he didn't sell them and only his prints. Many a times had Bucky been dragged in and pushed down into that broken, low-seated wrap-around chair, that settled beneath a large picture window, creating a scene that Steve loved to wax poetic about each and every time.</p><p>
  <em>Steve pushed the thin curtain out of the way of the early morning sunlight. He'd woken Bucky up, forced him into the shower, then brought him naked and covered in water droplets into the studio. "You'll be made of gold," he said, as he arranged Bucky's limbs exactly the way he wanted them. "The natural highlights in your hair will stand out, your eyes will turn into crystals -" He suddenly sighed, and tilted Bucky's chin up so he could press a soft, sensual kiss to his lips. "You're god-like."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bucky just scoffed, smiling against Steve's lips. "I'm just Middle Eastern, babe - I'm not -"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Sh, sh, sh," Steve hushed him, and slowly moved back in to kiss him again. "I always think you're more than beautiful."</em>
</p><p>Olivia finally came to a stop, in the open doorway of the final room. Bucky halted a few steps behind her, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He said, after a moment, "That's mine and Steve's room. You'll sleep in there, until we get you set up."</p><p>At that, she walked in. Bucky followed suit, turning on the light for them. As Steve had told him hours before, the bedding had been changed and the other put into the wash. They had two sets, one a waving blue and one a smooth grey. Olivia smoothed one hand over the quilt-like grey comforter, then tried to jump and pull herself up.</p><p>He stepped in and helped her up, since the wooden frame they had was high for storage space underneath. He let her go as soon as he knew she wouldn't fall, stepping out of the way so she could take off her shoes and coat, then pull the untucked comforter and sheet back so she could crawl in. Resting her head on Steve's pillow, Bucky watched the tears build in her eyes, the tremble of her bottom lip. She folded her arms in front of her chest, like she was trying to hug something.</p><p>Bucky pursed his lips. Kids her age usually had a stuffed animal, mostly for comfort. He moved away from the bed, walking around the foot of it and to the closet. He pulled on the string until it clicked, the bulb burning a sudden bright yellow that illuminated the top shelf. Pointedly ignoring the cobweb up in the top corner, Bucky pulled down the plastic briefcase filled with scrapbooking supplies - a gift from Sarah Rogers, that Bucky kept meaning to do something with - then a few boxes of puzzles, until he found exactly what he needed.</p><p>He pulled the old thing down with a small grunt, falling off his toes into a slight stumble. He turned off the light before he'd forget to, moving back around the bed. He sat down on the edge, giving Olivia her space, but held the stuffed llama out to her. A peace offering, of sorts. He carried that thing everywhere when he was little, called it Henry, after his dad had gotten it for him.</p><p>Thankfully, she took the llama, and pushed her face into it's side. With a sigh, Bucky started, "I know it's a little different. But my dad died two years ago. It was the worst thing I've ever felt in my entire life. He gave me that when I was little. His name's Henry. I hope he can do for you what he did for me." Last he'd taken Henry out of hiding was after he and Steve came home from the hospital. He'd pulled it off the top shelf with shaking fingers, sat down on the bed, then curled in on himself and sobbed so hard that he couldn't breathe. He had slept with it for a week, then on and off for multiple months, and Steve hadn't said a word.</p><p>Bucky's eyes stung from the memories, and his eyes watered when he heard a muffled sob from his daughter.</p><p>The heavy shit could wait. This day has been long enough. To get her attention, he gently nudged the side of her foot, seeing the outline under the comforter. When he spoke, he hated how his voice sounded - clogged by the lump in his throat, how unfit he was to care for her. "Do you want anything to eat?"</p><p>She shook her head, keeping her face pressed against the llama.</p><p>Bucky just nodded. He'd force some food on her tomorrow. He wasn't going to push it today, only would've if Julia hadn't made sure she had eaten. "Okay. If you change your mind, just come down. Steve and I will be in the living room, wake one of us up if you need anything." He set his palms on his knees and pushed himself up, stepping into the bathroom to make sure that the night-light was plugged in. He came back out and made a hesitant, awkward leave, letting the door remain open behind him, hating every step down the hall that took him further away from her.</p><p>His walk downstairs was one of shame. Arms folded in front of his chest, holding fistfuls of the yellow sweatshirt he still wore. Steve looked back at him when he came out from the hallway, the stairwell just inside of it. The blond held a bowl of mac and cheese in his hands, a hot pad between his palm and the ceramic bowl. Another steaming bowl sat on the coffee table, clearly for Bucky.</p><p>Immediately catching Bucky's glassy eyes, he set down his bowl and asked, "Put her to bed?"</p><p>Bucky cleared his throat, stepping carefully between Steve and the coffee table, saying, "Best as I could," before dropping down onto the couch beside him. Steve was quiet, and Bucky added, "I gave her Henry."</p><p>A dark blond brow quirked. "Really?"</p><p>"I'll take him back, at some point. But she needed something. And he wasn't doing any good collecting dust in the closet, you know?"</p><p>Steve's lips pressed into a line, and he nodded. After a moment, he started, "So...how is this going to work?"</p><p>"What -" Bucky's throat closed, and he cleared it again before he forced himself to go on. "What exactly do you mean - cause there are so many ways I could answer that."</p><p>He inhaled deeply. "Well...we can get to some things later. But I have to ask, what do you want from me? I have no blood or real legal relation to her, and you know I'm not going to do anything that you don't want me to. I need to have some sort of role, or at least get some guidelines."</p><p>Steve's right hand dropped down to rest on Bucky's right thigh, and that's exactly when he broke. The true weight of the day crashed down on him, and he couldn't control the flow of tears down his cheeks, the harsh tightening of his chest - for Dot and Olivia, for the sudden stress he and Steve were now under. There was so much to change, so much to plan; but the thoughts ran away as soon as Steve folded his left arm around Bucky's shoulders and squeezed, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as he rubbed his thigh. The unrelenting sweetness just made Bucky sob a bit harder, bringing his hands up to press his face into them.</p><p>Steve remained silent as Bucky sobbed, as he got everything out. He did what he could to physically support him, holding him close and pressing soft kisses where he could reach. He held Bucky until he was able to bring himself down to hitching breaths and sniffles, eyes rimmed in red and face flushed.</p><p>When Steve finally spoke, his voice was as soft as it was whenever his words were only for Bucky. The brunet raised his pounding head when he heard him."I think," he paused for a moment, thumbing at the end of a strand of Bucky's dark hair, "you need me."</p><p>Bucky scoffed, then sniffled behind his hand before dropping it into his lap, curling his fingers underneath his husband's. Steve immediately squeezed them, adding as much comfort and reassurance into his actions as he could. "I'm always gonna need you, punk."</p><p>Steve blessed him with a soft, barely there smile, and gently pulled him closer by the back of his head. Bucky's eyes fell closed at the press of Steve's lips against his forehead, a heavy, grieving sigh leaving him.</p><p>He suddenly murmured, "Now you have an excuse to buy Lucky Charms," and Bucky couldn't have done anything to stop the loud guffaw that left him. It was sudden, unexpected, but that's what made it better.</p><p>Steve always seemed to know exactly what he needed.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Four ∆ Scraped Hands and Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey peeps!</p><p>I just had surgery! I'm a week post op, and just starting to get back to my normal sleep schedule. My emotions are basically dialed to eleven (I dropped buttered rolls today and seriously cried), everything is overstimulating, I'm constantly hungry. I'm doing really good though! I got my drains off, and I was able to get a shower after my week post op appointment (: I have to start schoolwork again by January 2nd, but I want to work a little bit during Christmas break. My Jewishness benefits.</p><p>I'm mostly able to write, but I'm writing many things! So I'm just kind of going with what I have the motivation for. Apologies in advance, if there isn't anything for a little bit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up in Steve's arms is something Bucky often took for granted.</p><p>He'd fallen asleep in his husband's warm embrace, that was now replaced by only a blanket. With a shaking arm that had yet to get the message of '<em>we're awake now, please function</em>,' Bucky pushed himself up onto one elbow, sighing as something in his back popped. Shifting his weight to his left hip, he sat up the rest of the way, pushing his left palm over his stubbled cheek.</p><p>The couch dipped beside him, and he leaned into the brush of Steve's fingers over his arm. "Go back to sleep, Buck."</p><p>Even though he was dropping back down, resituating himself so his head was in the blond's lap, he gave the weak protest of, "But work -"</p><p>"I called you in. It's okay, one day won't hurt anything," Steve soothed, pushing his fingers through Bucky's hair - and he was down for the count, resting his cheek on Steve's thigh. But if he actually slept, was the question.</p><p>He stayed silent for a few minutes, enjoying the slow push and pull of Steve's fingers through his hair, the drag of his knuckles or fingertips over his skin. He almost let the soothing touch coax him back into unconsciousness, but he held strong, and finally asked, "How is she doing?"</p><p>"I got some breakfast in her and then she wanted to go back to bed."</p><p>"Thank you for doing that." He threw his free left arm over Steve's lap, using the purchase against the couch cushion to push himself up. But he gave up partway through, and let his cheek fall on Steve's chest. Steve's rock-hard, but somehow soft, extremely muscled chest. "You have no idea how much -"</p><p>"I told you that I'd be here. You don't have to thank me." He dropped a kiss down on the top of his head, fingers sliding down behind his ear and his palm coming to rest on his shoulder blade. "Did you sleep well?"</p><p>"Not exactly, but I always sleep like a rock. So that's something."</p><p>He could practically hear the roll of Steve's eyes, but melted in his hold as his large hand smoothed down his back. He said, "I called my dad today," moving on.</p><p>Joseph and Sarah Rogers were saints. There wasn't any doubt in Bucky's mind. From the second he was introduced to them, they treated him like their own, welcomed his family with open arms. Bucky wouldn't ever forget the way Joe had hugged him the first time they saw each other after Bucky's own father had passed away, bone-crushing and filled with grief, love, and empathy. </p><p>"About...?" He trailed off, ultimately falling quiet. Steve knew what he meant.</p><p>"He said that he would meet us at Dot's place, help us bring Olivia's stuff back. Furniture and what else can fit can go with him, clothes and stuff like that with us."</p><p>Bucky turned further into the curve of Steve's body, curling around him. Folding his legs up and winding his arms around his torso, pressing his face further into the warmth of Steve's chest. "I have no idea what I'm doing."</p><p>"You aren't going to. Neither of us are. We just have to figure it out as we go."</p><p>"She hates me."</p><p>"She probably thinks you were the one that left her and Dot. She's grieving. She doesn't know you. But once she does know you, she's going to love you just as much as I do. You're going to be a good dad, you're already the best husband and brother. Just another thing to have under your belt."</p><p>Bucky remained silent, all but for a content hum after he cuddled even closer. After a minute, Steve carded his fingers through his hair, touching a kiss to the top of his head. </p><p>~∆~</p><p>Sarah's wide smile was visible around the every-day fabric mask, the slightly tinted windshield of Joe's Chevy truck. For being in their mid-to-late-fifties, both of Steve's parents were spritely and active, much more than anyone would expect. Sarah walked with pep in her step more often than not, emitted sunshine from her pores, and infected everyone around her with her smiles.</p><p>And her baked goods. She knew that all too well. <em>(She could get Bucky to do anything when she made her caramel milk chocolate squares.)</em></p><p>"I'd hug you if you weren't just in a hospital!" she called over, gaze on Bucky, as she and Joe rounded to the back of the truck.</p><p>"I appreciate that!" he called back, his own smile coming to his lips underneath his favorite mask. He was about to move around to the other side of the car, where the car seat was behind the driver's seat, but he saw Steve opening the door and getting Olivia out of it.</p><p>As Joe and Sarah pulled down the tailgate, and Joe fixed his foot on the foothold of the bumper to push himself up. The front door of the tiny, square house opened. Julia stepped out onto the little porch, her fabric mask patterned with blue and purple watercolor flowers and light-brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. When Olivia saw her, she immediately rushed up the walkway. Bucky found his body jerking to quickly follow her, hands reaching out, to make sure she wouldn't fall. But he quickly tore himself back, jumping up off his heels when Steve's hand brushed at the small of his back.</p><p>Olivia lunged up the steps, only for the toe of her shoe to catch on the edge of the porch. She caught herself with her hands, but she had still fallen hard, and the wood was splintering beneath her hands and knees. Bucky sighed, and jogged forward as Julia knelt down to help the little girl up. As soon as she was able to, Olivia completed her mission of throwing herself at Julia, her hold tight and uncompromising.</p><p>Julia hauled Olivia up into her arms, hugging her close. Eyes on Bucky, over Olivia's head underneath her chin, "I got her," she murmured, voice heavy with sympathy. "You guys focus on getting loaded up. Her room's easy to find, it comes before Dol's." </p><p>Bucky nodded, brows drawing in the slightest bit more, tension heavy underneath his skin. She moved back into the open doorway, fingertips brushing against the wooden door and pushing it open a little bit, offering it to Bucky. He stepped in after her, Steve at his heels, and Sarah following a few steps behind. Olivia didn't look at them over Julia's shoulder, he could only see her wild brown curls.</p><p>Stepping through the wide archway into the kitchen and dining room, she gestured down the hallway, where three bedroom doors were open. Bucky stayed on the move, glancing into the first. It was a bedroom that came first, not a bathroom, and if Julia hadn't told him that one came before the other he would've known it was Olivia's just by how it looked. He stepped inside, the carpet completely flat beneath the worn soles of his Vans, as it had been in the living room and hall. He inhaled deeply, stomach expanding and shoulders rising, and when it came out it was in jagged pieces. He sharply turned around to face Steve, grabbing hold of his forearms. "I can't do this," quickly slipped from his lips, no pause between the words, creating and anxiety-riddled stream. Sudden tears burned in his eyes, his breath scraped in his throat, the block hindering the action.</p><p>"Hey." Steve gripped underneath Bucky's elbows, responding to the contact. Even softer, he continued to speak, even softer than he had started. "<em>Hey</em>. Take a breath for me? Nice and slow."</p><p>Bucky forced himself to deeply inhale, taking the time to let it out at a measured pace, smoothing out the sharp edges. He did it once more, not finding it to come any easier.</p><p>"None of this is easy. I know." Steve removed his right hand from Bucky's arm, coming up to clasp the side of his neck, the pad of his thumb brushing over his mask instead of his skin. "But it unfortunately has to be done. You don't have to help if you don't want, we can get it just fine."</p><p>"I don't - I can't - I can't do this to her." With pressured words, he stuttered on, "This is all too fast, she's just going to hate me more, I can't make her move like this."</p><p>"Honey, we're going to break some rules. Okay?" Sarah softly murmured, before she cut in and curled her arms around his shoulders. One palm settled between his shoulder blades, the other resting in his hair. He curled into her, accepting the hug, involuntary tears falling. She nodded, running her palm down the section of his back and then up again. "Okay."</p><p>"I'm tearing her life apart," he sobbed into her shoulder. </p><p>"You haven't done a thing wrong. You've done what you can," she reassured. He tried to breathe in, as Steve had been telling him, but he couldn't and a sob came from behind the block in his throat. "You don't have to know what you're doing. No parent truly does." She pulled back slightly, taking his face in her gentle, motherly hands, brushing at his tears with her thumbs the best she could. "You're giving her a home. You're making sure she's safe. That she's with people that will love her and care for her. You're bringing her things, not to try and replace home, but to try and make an awful transition easier with familiar things. You're being a parent. Doing everything you can. This is tough on her, it's going to be for a while, and it's okay that this is tough on you, too. There's going to be a lot of guilt, for so many things, but you have to know that it's okay to feel that, and it's okay that it's okay."</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Five ∆ Only Time Will Tell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this through a headache and heavy brain fog, so I hope it's okay! XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Loading up Olivia's room was pretty easy. Dot had a system of storage with plastic totes under the bed, closed shelves holding everything else. They put her bedding - Disney's Brave themed - within the comforter and stuffed the wrap on the floor behind the passenger seat in Steve's pearly white SUV.</p><p>Clearing out the last little parts, Olivia darted past Bucky, deeper into the hallway. He followed her, glancing inside the cute little bathroom before stepping through the final doorway.</p><p>Dot's bedroom wasn't much. And he recognized a good part of it. The grey-brown bedspread, the little yellow star-shaped throw pillow. The little sock monkeys she had sitting on a bookshelf, a wax burner beside her bed and a notebook with a pen stuck through the spiral binding. He opened the first drawer, a sad little smile coming to his lips when he saw a little photo booth strip of the two of them. It was at most six years old but well cared for. He lifted it out, seeing her charm bracelet with more charms than he remembered. He flipped the photo reel over, rereading his old, since-evolved handwriting, a little heart and music note underneath.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The way you move ain't fair, you know...</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>He let the strip slip from his fingers. Her Train CDs were tucked into a shelf, that he saw as he crossed to the dresser in front of the closet and beside the door. He opened one of the lower drawers, finding pajamas, and, unsurprisingly, the sweater he had been missing after she left him. He pulled it out from its place, the fold falling apart. Despite wearing the mask, he lifted it up to his face, and was still able to tell that it just smelled like her.</p><p>Still worn thin from his meltdown, Bucky paced back and dropped down to the edge of his bed, feeling gutted, holding the old sweater up in his hands. He released a shaky breath, running the pads of his thumbs over the worn fabric.</p><p>"Did you love each other?" Olivia suddenly asked him, and Bucky straightened his back, sniffling. He stood up just enough to shift, to be able to face her when he settled back down. She stared at him from the other side of the mattress, jewel eyes wide and rimmed in red as she stared at him.</p><p>"I did. I don't think she did. Not enough to work things out, at least. We were young, we didn't exactly know what we were doing. First loves, it's sometimes hard to tell if it's really love." He didn't elaborate. From what he could tell, you could hold a good conversation with her. She was smart. But he didn't want to push it without realizing. Especially with such heavy and hard topics.</p><p>"You know what it feels like now?"</p><p>"You...you can't love one person the same way you did someone else. If that makes sense." Dot was this juvenile love. They graduated college together, in the year and couple months they dated, they were able to retain carefree youth as they stepped into adult life. He was sure that Dot was his first real love. He was so sure that he had loved Tyler Moore in eighth grade, had lost his virginity to Angela Shoemacher the summer between his junior and senior years of high school. But he had never loved anyone the way he loved Steve.</p><p>She nodded, and they fell back into their silence. Bucky watched her eyes fill up with tears again, felt his own. He wanted to take his mask off, clean himself up, but he had to wait until he was back in the car. Right now, he needed to find some way to be there for his daughter. The awkward unknowing between them was thick and sticky, and through circumstance he couldn't figure out the proper way to try and clean it. He couldn't push himself on her, but he needed to care for her at least in the most basic understanding. Give her a home, food, and such. Until she would accept that he was no in her life, he had to figure out a good way to let her know that he was truly here for her. And that he wasn't going to leave (again.)</p><p>"Can I have a hug?" he asked, voice breaking. He tried to word it the best he could, was sure that he hadn't hit the nail right. But he needed to do something. She didn't seem to want her to touch her, but the  exigency to comfort her marched like ants underneath his skin. An incessant tug, like the way he'd darted to follow her when she went running without warning.</p><p>She didn't respond, just crawled across the bed and kind of fell beside him. He gathered her up in his arms, pressing his cheek against her soft hair. "I'm so sorry," he told her, doing his very best to keep his voice level. It wavered a bit, but he mostly managed. "I don't want to make you move. I hate that I wasn't here. I'm so sorry you lost her, that it feels like I'm replacing her." He gently squeezed her thin arm. "I'm just trying to do what I wasn't able to do for you before."</p><p>She squirmed, and he took the cue and let her go. But she stayed curled up beside him, letting him keep his arm strewn above her shoulders.</p><p>He counted that as a win.</p><p>~∆~</p><p>Sarah and Joe lingered at the house, once the four of them had gotten all of Olivia's stuff and some of Dot's unloaded and settled. Bucky had come out of her bedroom with a little armful of things, that he didn't let go of during the drive back home.</p><p>Having broken the rule before and knowing that the barrier no longer mattered, the four traded hugs, before Bucky's in-laws asked him to stay back outside while Steve went in to help Olivia settled. Giving him some more sacred parental advise, reassurance for so many things he was terrified about</p><p>Bucky and Steve moved Olivia's furniture where she instructed them to, in her cleared downstairs bedroom that had a window open to the fenced-off backyard. She agreed to eat with them, though it was tense and mostly silent before they all went their own ways again.</p><p>When Bucky went to check in on her later after eating, he found her passed out on top of the comforter on her bed, hugging Henry the Llama and a purple octopus. He wasn't sure how heavy she slept, so he didn't try to move her, just stepped into the room to brush her hair back with his hand, away from her face.</p><p>He walked up the stairs after leaving her room, stepping off of them as Steve walked out of his studio. The blond leaned against the doorframe, arms folding over his chest. "We meet again."</p><p>"You would think that would happen more," Bucky kidded, sarcasm dripping from his tongue, as he continued down the hall, Steve trailing just behind.</p><p>"She's in bed?"</p><p>"Out like a light. It was a hard day, lots happened. I'm not very surprised." As he had wanted to do all day, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, to the point where they could slip down his legs, then scooped them up with one foot and put the article in the hamper. He kept his shirt, since it was comfortable and warm, and replaced the jeans with soft flannel pajama pants. He turned to Steve to see him placing his button down in the hamper, torso bare but for the couple small tattoos scattered on his skin.</p><p>"It was a big day. For all of us." With soft, kind eyes, he asked, "Anything I can do?"</p><p>"I need a notebook," was Bucky's quick answer.</p><p>Steve did an immediate three-sixty, walking back out of the room. Bucky splayed out horizontally over the bed, watching the tall blond disappear into his work room. After another few moments, he called back, "Gel pens?"</p><p>Bucky approved the consideration. "Sure!" It was the little things in life.</p><p>"Glitter, neon, metallic, or rainbow?"</p><p>"Glitter." They wrote the smoothest.</p><p>Steve finally reappeared, notebook and a pencil case of gel pens in hand. Bucky pushed himself back onto his side of the bed, catching the case when Steve launched it at him, and accepting the paper as he climbed into bed. Bucky relaxed back against the propped up pillows as Steve got comfortable beside him, flipping the notebook open to a blank page.</p><p>"What're you doing?" Steve asked, leaning into Bucky's side. His head came to rest on his shoulder, the most of his weight on the pillows behind them.</p><p>"To do list." He unzipped the pencil case and let it drop between them. He rifled through, the plastic pen cases clattering as he tried to find a color he wanted. Settling on a deep royal purple, he uncapped the chosen pen and began to write. Call Pepper came first. She was a great lawyer in the area, a friend, and could get him the information he needed. This was a difficult situation that he didn't know much about, and if he needed to go to court for any reason she would help him out.</p><p>"Call your boss," Steve reminded him, and Bucky jotted it down with a sharp, "<em>fuck</em>."</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>1. Call Pepper - custody</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>2. Call Phillips</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>3. School - Covid. Homeschool?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>4. Funeral - Jul</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>5. Groceries</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>6. Child grief counseling</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>7. </strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Bucky wrote the next number in the list, and paused. He leaned his head against Steve's, neck craning. "Babe."</p><p>"What?" His response was immediate, and he even turned his head up underneath Bucky's.</p><p>Lifting his head, he quietly asked, "If it was ever something that she would want, would you adopt her?"</p><p>Steve was quiet. After a moment, he leaned back over into his own space and shifted to sit up further. "If it's something that she wants. Or if we have to do it, for some reason. To be considered a parent, if it's just me. I'm one hundred percent on board."</p><p>And if that didn't make his insides turn to goo. He recapped the glittery purple pen, so it wouldn't mark their bedding as he pulled Steve in by the far side of his face, pressing a hard, long kiss to his lips. "I love you."</p><p>"Love you, too." Steve pecked at his lips, slinging his arm over his abdomen, out of the way of the notebook and pens, and leaning back into him. Bucky brought his left hand over, pushing his fingers through Steve's fine blond hair, making it stand up awkwardly. It made the corner of his mouth tug up, and he turned back to the notebook propped against his bent legs, uncapping his pen to add to his first item.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>1. Call Pepper - custody and adoption info</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>7. Babysitting plans</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>He asked Steve, out of the blue after they had fallen into a comfortable, soft silence, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"</p><p>"I have to finish a commission and start another. Grocery pickup at one."</p><p>"Lucky Charms?" he asked, a bit too hopeful.</p><p>"I'm psychic."</p><p>Bucky took that as a yes, a chuckle escaping him before Steve went on;</p><p>"Sam said Ty wants to see me. He just had his tonsils and adenoids removed, if you remember?"</p><p>Bucky could believe that it had slipped his mind, and was upset that it had. Ty, one of Sam and Natasha's hyper twin boys, was absolutely obsessed with his uncle Steve, and they all found it so adorably amusing. "Oh, yeah! Nat told me about that, texted me when he went in the other day. He's doing good?"</p><p>"He's doing great. Living the life with the ice cream and pudding diet," Steve said with a bright grin. "I'm gonna stop over tomorrow, stand on the porch and talk through the screen."</p><p>"I'm sure he'll really like that."</p><p>"You think Olivia would like them? Ty and Cole?"</p><p>While Ty loved Steve, Colin and Bucky got along insanely well. It was kind of fitting, considering that they were named godparents, were listed in the series of guardians in Sam and Nat's wills. They were around the same age as Olivia, would be in the same grade and school. Bucky hoped that they get along, once they were able to meet. They certainly didn't have to, but parents could hope.</p><p>"I think at least one of them would? But we don't know Olivia that well yet. I have no idea."</p><p>Steve nodded a little, in agreement. "From what we've seen, I do think that Ty would. She talked to me a little this morning. We ate leftover mac and cheese." </p><p>Bucky balked. "She talked to you?" he asked, unable to see it. She hadn't wanted to talk to either of them, or Steve's parents earlier. But especially Bucky.</p><p>"Uh, yeah. It was a little mindless and just, no direction. But she did." He drummed his fingers against Bucky's side, pausing. "And she talked to me again when you were with my parents. We looked at her stuffed animals, she told me all their names." He quickly disclosed, "I wasn't keeping it from you. I just didn't get the opportunity until now."</p><p>Bucky cleared his throat, staring at one of the blue lines on the paper in front of him. "I'm not mad," he assured him. "You know you're allowed to talk to her. I want you to be involved, however much you're comfortable with."</p><p>Steve pursed his lips into a tight line. "But she hasn't really talked to you yet."</p><p>"I know." And that fact, that she hadn't talked to him, that she'd talked to Steve and still not him, sat like a stone in his gut. "But it's good that she's talking to someone. One of us."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Six ∆ When You Get Punched In The Face...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had the weekend. Bucky added to and crossed items off his list, the gel pen colors changing and flowing per his mood or what was near him. He called his boss, Chester Phillips, and then spent two hours on the phone with the amazing Virginia Potts-Stark, jotting down even more notes in his notebook. Then, just to cheer him up, Tony had stolen his wife's phone when they were done and chattered on about science and whatnot. Which, honestly, was something Bucky needed. Something easy and, dare he say, normal. He got the information for Olivia's school, called, and explained the situation and that he didn't want her to be in-person if he could help it. The principal, Darcy Lewis, whom Bucky had met at a teaching convention a year and a half ago, explained that there was another school nearby that offered an online kindergarten program, and that he could enroll her once he had established custody. For now, she had days off, for bereavement.</p><p>Monday morning, Bucky regretfully woke up to his five AM alarm, rolling over and out of Steve's arms to slap at the machine until he found the switch to turn it off.</p><p>Today was different. Steve still got up with him, but he didn't go out on his run. Someone had to be in the house. Like usual, he made the essential coffee as Bucky showered, but now he didn't leave after Bucky got out, instead sat down at the couch with one of his nice commission sketchbooks, sipping at the coffee from his favorite mug with his hair all messed up from his pillow. Bucky drank his own coffee, sitting close to Steve's left side with his cheek on his shoulder, watching him feather careful graphite lines on the thick paper, but when he finished he had to tear himself away and finish getting ready. Putting on a plum purple dress shirt and a deep blue tie, then the dark brown suit jacket and trousers. He triple checked his bag before going to make sure his hair was drying alright, opting to leave it down as he rarely did.</p><p>In that extra ten minutes before he had to go, Steve was usually back from his run, showering. But now, Bucky perched on the arm of the couch, arms around Steve's shoulders as they lazily kissed, wasting time in the best way Bucky knew how.</p><p>"You look great, by the way," Steve softly murmured, pressing that final kiss to Bucky's lips, as he slipped off the arm of the couch and tossed over his shoulder;</p><p>"I always look great."</p><p>"You're vain."</p><p>Shaking his head, Bucky protested, "If I was vain, I'd never be caught with my hair this long."</p><p>Steve suddenly frowned. No longer teasing him, he said with a weight that Bucky absolutely hated, "Shit happens."</p><p>George Barnes had been Bucky's everything.</p><p>When his father died, it felt like the entire world had collapsed, or that an meteor had hit them. Everything revolved between scorching fire and burning ice. His bereavement days were counted in his total, so he had to go back after three - to have been approached by a random dad named George and unable to keep from falling apart. He was ultimately sent home, just to lay in bed hugging Henry the Llama. And Steve, who had been planning on going to the city for a job opportunity, had stayed at home for if he was ever needed or if something else happened. Bucky was never more thankful for him, and that his dad was able to meet him and love him too. Steve tried so hard during the big break - his mom had gone through cancer remission after remission. But both of his parents were still alive and kicking.</p><p>Bucky lost himself for a little while. He stopped caring about his hair, stopped getting cuts - even though he did get then for free, Natasha either coming to him or him visiting her. It grew out well, until it was a few inches past his shoulders, in waves that were almost curls. Steve convinced him to go to Nat a few times after the first handful of months, only for light trims when his ends began to split. He already knew how to care for long hair, having watched his mother and sisters do it themselves his whole life. The first time he'd ever properly plopped his hair, once it was long enough to do so, he and Steve had watched a bunch of old movies from their childhoods, played Battleship and card games they barely ever had the chance to play, as Bucky waited for his gelled hair to dry in the T-shirt wrap.</p><p>The hair was a reminder, he guessed. He lost something so important to him, he couldn't help but give something else up. Or, it was just part of mourning. Learning. Recognizing. Processing.</p><p>"Yeah," he agreed, despising the way his voice wavered. "Shit happens."</p><p>Steve reached out for him again, and Bucky complied before the blond even had the chance to speak. The sketchbook had been put to the side, and Steve pulled him partway onto his lap, kissing him so deeply that Bucky had to suck in a harsh breath through his nose.</p><p> </p><p>~∆~</p><p>Bucky hated every second of the day, besides lunch. There, he got to sit with his friend Bruce for about a half hour, the other sophomore biology teacher before Bucky had been promoted to assistant principal, and undeniably a great friend. There, he got to unload in a way he hadn't been able to with Steve.</p><p>And then he got punched by a student, after the final bell. Which was really just the cherry on top.</p><p>He parked his car in his spot in the garage and slammed his door shut behind him, pressing the lock button twice on his keys and then the close on the garage door remote attached to a ring. His car chirped as he put his back to it, and the covering of the garage began to lower as he stepped up the few makeshift wooden steps, sticking his house key in the lock and turning it to open the door.</p><p>Inside, he carefully closed the door as to not worry anyone. He skipped taking an ice pack from the fridge, having held one to his face the extra near hour he had to stay in his office after the final bell. He set his bag down and made a beeline for the little laundry room, with the staircase leading down to the basement door, and stripped off everything but his pants, which he would bring down after he changed. He couldn't well just walk around in his boxer briefs. </p><p>"No, not how you do it!" He heard Olivia cry from the direction of her bedroom. There was laughter in her voice, and that warmed Bucky's heart irreversibly. He stepped out of the laundry room, as he heard Steve explain back;</p><p>"Really? I was so sure - I guess you're gonna have to show me the right way."</p><p>Bucky walked down the hall, slowly coming to the back bedroom. He glanced through the door, a little smile coming to his face at the sight. Steve was sitting on the floor at the little drawing table, Olivia in one of the tiny plastic chairs across from him. Their dinner sat in front of them - the sides of the bowls hiding the contents from Bucky's view - as well as a plastic purple tea set. But what he really enjoyed was the tiara nestled in Steve's hair, that had grown out over the pandemic into this honey-gold mop.</p><p>Before he saw too much, he moved away from the door, back the way he had come. He shucked off his nice dress pants and put them in the washer, leaving it so he could add more later on, then took a different direction to dart up the stairs. On the second floor, he stopped in Steve's studio for a moment, smiling when he saw the painting of a skyscraper skyline, sun rising behind the reaching buildings. To his large cork board, multiple simple sketches were pinned, showing examples of more classic and fancy work that Bucky knew Steve didn't often do.</p><p>In his room, he got dressed in pajama pants, comfy socks, and a muscle shirt before trying to relax. He eased down onto the folded quilt on top of the cedar hope chest, that had been one of Bucky's favorite wedding gifts from Steve's side of the family. It was apparently his grandmother's, which made it even more special. He rested his palms against the cold top-side of the quilt, breathing in deeply before letting it out between his lips.</p><p>All of this was hard. Too hard. So much at once, while he was dealing with other things - grief never ended, no matter how much he wished it did - and now...she liked Steve. Which was incredible. That was amazing. But she was still ignoring Bucky's existence.</p><p>And he had to just be honest with himself, even as much as he loved that his sudden daughter and husband were getting along, it hurt.</p><p>"You okay?" Steve asked, and Bucky looked up at hearing him to see him leaning against the doorway, tiara still on his head and worry creating a crinkle between his brows. It deepened suddenly, and he exclaimed in only a way Steve Rogers could, "Who the hell punched you?"</p><p>Bucky's fingers brushed over the curve of his cheekbone, the edge of the shiner. "A jackass, privileged, white sixteen year old. Need I say more?"</p><p>Steve huffed, moving from the doorway further into the room. "Of course it was." He came to stand in front of Bucky, getting down on one knee on the floor in front of him.</p><p>Bucky wasn't able to hold it in any longer, and tugged at a strand of Steve's hair. "You're very pretty today, Princess Steve."</p><p>He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he reached up to take off the tiara, claiming, "I forgot I had it on." He turned it around to take a look at the plastic gemstones before setting it on the blanket, beside Bucky.</p><p>Now that he was able to, he pushed his fingers back through Steve's hair. "Seriously, I may have to bribe a priest to declare you a virgin, just so I can take your virtue. That's how beautiful you are."</p><p>"Princess Steve can't be subjected to rape culture. I've got a barrier. You'll fail."</p><p>Bucky hummed, leaning in to press their lips together. Thankfully, Steve's nose didn't poke at his bruise. The kiss quickly spiraled from there, and the blond moved further into the part between Bucky's knees, urging him to spread them further.</p><p>"Steve -"</p><p>"Is this okay?" he asked, voice small and quiet. As he continued, he started speaking faster, "You've just been so stressed lately, and I've figured giving you space is a good idea, but it's weird because things are changing but some aren't -"</p><p>"Honey," Bucky interrupted, running his left thumb along Steve's temple, fingers still folded in his hair, "slow down for a second, yeah?"</p><p>Steve sighed, letting his head fall against Bucky's chest, leading the brunet to wrap his arms around his broad shoulders and rest his chin on top of his honey hair. "I'm sorry. I don't know - since she woke up, I haven't been able to get any work done besides a call and sucky reference scribbles. She's insanely low maintenance, a couple minutes won't affect her, so I've had couple breaks. I just really wanted to stay with you for a minute."</p><p>"But she's four," Bucky whispered.</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>After a few moments, Bucky raised his head and then pulled Steve's face away from his chest, so he could look into his eyes. "Executive rule," he started, gently. "No funny business while she's awake and under our roof. That's not fair to her, and I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea of it. When she's asleep...then it can be talked about. Sometimes. And once Covid hopefully ends at some point, I'm sure Sam and Nat, or Tony and Pepper, would <em>love</em> to repay us for the years of babysitting."</p><p>Steve gazed up at him with love in his eyes, before coming close to peck Bucky's lips. "Later," he agreed, as if it were a heavy, pregnant promise.</p><p>"Later," he echoed. He patted Steve's shoulder, nudging him back so he could stand up without shoving his crotch in the blond's face - though, clearly, he was interested in that. "What did you make?"</p><p>"White cheddar, garlic, and breadcrumb baked mac and cheese. She wanted mac and cheese again, she said sure when I asked if I could change it up. It was a hit."</p><p>"Is she much of a picky eater?" A few days with her hadn't quite been enough to tell. </p><p>Steve took a second to form his words. "Not exactly? But she's also not the easiest. She's at a good neutral point, from what I can tell. HHow'syour face feeling?"</p><p>"Like I got punched."</p><p>"How the fuck did a kid punch you, anyways?"</p><p>"White guy calling a black guy a bunch of nasty things, a fight started, and I was the only one around that would've been able to break it up. And you know, I'm not <em>exactly</em> white, and the kid didn't hold back. He's suspended, and unfortunately it is mostly because he assaulted a staff member. Because, you know, that beats racism." He rolled his eyes, tugging at the hem of his muscle shirt, so it settled comfortably around his hips over the waistline of his pajama pants. It was common for him to get in comfortable clothes as soon as possible, when he got home from work or if he had gone to the store over the weekend. He then took Steve's hand in both of his own, Steve's free one grabbing the tiara, and pulled him out of the bedroom. As they walked down the stairs, he asked Steve from over his shoulder, "Where is she?"</p><p>"I left her coloring in her room."</p><p>Bucky moved further away from the kitchen once they were on the ground floor, while Steve went to their final destination. As he heard the water and familiar clanks, he figured Steve was washing dishes. Bucky once again stopped in Olivia's doorway. He didn't expect much, but he wanted to make that effort and remain consistent, so she knew he would be there whenever she needed.</p><p>She looked up from her coloring pad, and Bucky smiled at her. "Hey," he started, gently. "I'm back, and Steve's still here. Feel free to join us, or get help if you need it. We may watch a movie later." Without sparing a glance at her bedspread, he seemingly-obliviously asked, "You like Brave?"</p><p>She nodded, visibly perking up at the idea of it.</p><p>"Steve likes Disney movies, so we have it if you want to watch it with us later. We can make some popcorn. And I think I have Hershey kisses hidden away somewhere." He asked, after a moment, "Are we calling Steve 'Princess Steve?'"</p><p>She giggled, and Bucky's heart soared. "Princess Stevie," she said, a slight correction, and he nodded as if that had been the obvious choice.</p><p>"Of course. Princess Stevie. And I'm his knight in shining armor, Prince...?" He trailed off, quirking an eyebrow to see if she'd play along.</p><p>"Is Bucky your name?" she asked.</p><p>So she was thinking this out. "I usually go by it. My sisters called me Bucky when we were little, my nieces and nephews kept it around. My first name is James. And I guess I've kept Bucky because you don't hear it often, and it separated me from the hoards of Jameses. But my parents and grandparents call me Jamie."</p><p>"Would you be Prince James?"</p><p>He aimed a happy little grin at her. "I'll be Prince James if you want me to be."</p><p>She nodded her head again, satisfied with that answer. Bucky bowed, extravagantly, and backed away to leave her to her coloring.</p><p>She still didn't refer to him with a name. She hadn't asked whether to call him Bucky or Dad, and now James. He kept his gaze to the floor as he walked to the kitchen, rounding around the wall to enter the dining room and then the mouth of the kitchen, Steve standing there drying bowls and silverware. He held out the bowl he was holding, and Bucky took it, pushing himself up on his toes to press a kiss to Steve's cheek as he passed him on his way to the fridge.</p><p>"I'm apparently Prince James," he reported, a smug little smile on his lips.</p><p>Steve gaped. "But you have the longer hair!"</p><p>"I guess you're just prettier, then," he laughed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Seven ∆ The Bravest of All Popcorn Kernels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky ate leftover white cheddar mac and cheese, sitting at the table since he was eating quick. Steve sat with him, the corner of the square table between them. Since Bucky didn't exactly need his left hand, he took Steve's and entwined their fingers together, just so they could be that little bit closer. They traded idle small talk, until Bucky came to asking about Steve's day, remembering a detail from before. "What phone call did you get earlier?"</p><p>"Tony and...shit, who was it? Anyways, I'm wanted in the city tomorrow. There's a meeting, and it could bring in a lot of money, which right now would be really, really helpful. It has to do with making fancy pieces to go into antique frames for an auction coming up, they'll rank up the prices and I'll get a percentage of each one that's sold on top of my official pay. Family portraits aren't exactly high sellers. I called Wanda, and she said that she could watch Liv while we're gone. The only time she's  around anyone is when she gets grocery pickup." Wanda was the clear decision. She happily worked from home with her Etsy shop, making soaps and handcrafted jewelry. It took up most of her time, after her husband Vis had gotten stuck in California and then passed away the month before. The stillbirth of her twins was already hard enough, but she loved being around their friends' kids when she had the opportunity, even if it brought up that familiar sorrow.</p><p>Bucky didn't focus too much on the nickname, instead asking, "Why not a Google Meet? Or a Zoom?" before shoveling another mouthful into his mouth. Bless Sarah for teaching her son how to cook.</p><p>"Because the organization is <em>apparently</em> above remote meetings, pictures and video manipulate the work '<em>beyond recognition</em>.'" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Tony tried to convince them, but they wouldn't bite. He and I are going to stay a little out of the way, so we're not too close to them."</p><p>Bucky nodded, frowning. "Sounds dumb."</p><p>"Very. But it's good money, so I'm cooperating where I can. If they don't follow social distance and/or don't have masks or won't put them on, I'll walk out. Tony will, too. He's made sure that Stark Industries is following all the guidelines, and there's a no tolerance policy for employees and customers, and business partners."</p><p>Bucky had heard. They were loyal customers of their close friend's national company, partially for the very good discounts Tony gave them because he considered them family and the work that he and Steve did together. Mostly because they were usually ready to babysit his daughter Morgan at the drop of a hat. They got the customer newsletters, Tony's rants that Bucky and Steve were so easily sucked into ("why the fuck won't people just wear their fucking masks, this would've been over and we can party it up like - what is it? Sweden? Norway?" "Well, don't you know that the masks and tests are invasive?" "Tell that to pap smears and prostate exams, I bet they'll be shocked.")</p><p>"Okay...Okay. Are you staying overnight?"</p><p>"I don't think so. May need some extra kisses, just in case."</p><p>Feeding in, Bucky kissed him again, pulling away to happily turn his attention back to the last part of his previously full bowl. Steve made good money, doing what he did. He was one of the artists that got fortunately discovered, was able to make more than a penny off his fantastic work. Technically, Steve very much qualified as rich, but he liked to live comfortably over lavish. So their house was a two story with a full basement, had enough rooms so they could host holidays when it was their turn or make sure one of their friends didn't have to bother with a hotel room. It was nice, because even after Bucky got his promotion he didn't make much of anything. And Steve had grown up in a financial struggle, his parents living paycheck to paycheck, buried in loans and debt after Sarah's cancer kept coming back, after Steve was so sick as a kid.</p><p>Now it was mostly better. Sarah smiled through everything. Steve did his best to help his parents out. And their was just so much love and understanding in their little family, that just made Bucky so so sad but so proud to have gotten to know them the way he did.</p><p>He supported Steve through his career, through the ups and downs where he felt like he'd cheated because Tony did so much for him and that other artists, better ones, deserved his place. Bucky always reassured him. Even though he still never wrapped his mind around the fact that his face was in some rich guy's living room. Steve drew what he loved, and those meaningful pieces were always his best.</p><p>After Bucky finished eating, he got up to clean his bowl and fork, setting them in the drying rack before turning back to Steve. A laugh tore from him, startling him into a snort, and Steve laughed at his reaction as he perfected the placement of the tiara, back into the folds of his honey gold mane of hair. Bucky darted over to him, folding his face in his hands and deeply kissing him, smiles making the kiss pleasantly sweet.</p><p>"Love you," he whispered against Steve's lips. He slipped his hands further back into his hair, the L of his index fingers and thumbs flanking Steve's ears, his palms cradling the curves of his jaw. Their foreheads were pressed, noses tucked together, lips so dangerously close.</p><p>"I bet I love you more."</p><p>"Nah, it's my kiss that wakes you up, Princess Stevie."</p><p>He rolled his eyes, turning his head. Bucky dropped his arms around Steve's shoulders as he ranted, staying close. "Why can't we be gay princes? Do I need to be a princess? That's sexist, and I feel like it's a hate crime."</p><p>A loud laugh came from him, a whole body one that made him throw his head back. He knew Steve was using truth in his sarcasm, but they both knew it wasn't against Olivia. Steve put on a princess tiara. There wasn't anything bad about it. Hell, Bucky'd go find another tiara and make them both princesses -</p><p><em>QUEENS! </em>he thought, making himself even more amused. He giggled into Steve's hair, earning a little slap to his side that just made him laugh harder. He felt Steve shaking beneath him, the two of them just falling apart, Bucky using Steve's sturdy, though clumsy, body to keep himself up on his feet.</p><p>"What's so funny?"</p><p>Bucky pulled away from smothering Steve, reaching for the kitchen counter to steady himself, laughing so hard that there was no sound, just wheezing. He wasn't sure why this was so funny, but it was, and he couldn't control it. Through teary eyes, he saw Olivia standing with her arms tight around her purple octopus - Denise, Steve had informed him Saturday evening - and looking at them with wide eyes.</p><p>"Your dad's being stupid," Steve said with a smile, nose crinkled cutely. "What's up, Livvy?"</p><p>"Um...Bucky?"</p><p>He came to attention, doing everything he could to tame the laughter. "Y-yeah?" he asked, catching his breath.</p><p>"Do I call you Bucky?"</p><p>He paused for a moment. "Uh - you can call me Bucky, if you want. Dad, too. James, Jamie. If you're not comfortable calling me Dad, you can call me something that not a lot of people call me, so it's kind of yours."</p><p>Unsure silence fell over them, so long that Bucky began to feel nervous. She finally decided. "I'll just call you Bucky."</p><p>The uneasy feeling still remained in his chest, but he smiled. "Yeah, honey?"</p><p>"Can we still watch Brave?"</p><p>"Of course!" he exclaimed. "Steve." The man in question perked up, raising his gaze up to Bucky's. "Get your Air Popper out. We haven't used it in a while."</p><p>Steve pushed himself out of his chair, walking to the pantry at the end of the kitchen. He opened the folding doors, looked inside, and then reached in with both hands to pull the worn box out.</p><p>Olivia came further into the dining room, watching Steve pull out the pieces for the popper, reassembling it as he did per every use. She came up to stand beside Bucky's leg. "What's an Air Popper?" she stage whispered, though he knew she was trying.</p><p>"So there's that flat platform, with the litter spinner. The spinner pushes the kernels around, as the base heats up. That hot air pops the kernels. And we'll melt down some butter to pour in it, okay?"</p><p>"Mommy just got the stovetop ones. Or microwave."</p><p>Steve chuckled, making sure the spinner was working. "The stovetop ones are the fun ones. I thought my dad was the most powerful being in the world, as I watched him do that." He reached up into the cupboard for the kernels, into a drawer for a measuring cup, and poured out the right amount into the cup before he put them on the little platform. He fixed the plastic dome on top, reached to plug the popper in, and now they just waited.</p><p>Bucky smoothed down Olivia's hair, and she moved away from him almost instantly. He covered up his disappointment by sliding past Steve to the fridge, pulling out the sticks of butter they used when baking. "How much butter do we want?"</p><p>"I think we usually do half a stick?" Steve guessed. Neither of them could ever remember, much less remember to make a note of it so they didn't have to ask each other each time. "Or a little more than that? Not a full stick, I know that."</p><p>"Three quarters? And if it's too much, we just put the rest in one of those little mugs and put it back in the fridge." Steve huffed, mouth setting into a firm line. Bucky stared right back at him, until he groaned and turned away. Bucky got a rada knife out of the silverware drawer, cutting the stick at the three fourths line and putting the last quarter back in the box, putting it back in the fridge. When he straightened up, Steve had the little sauce pot, and he took it from him and stretched up to peck his cheek in thanks.</p><p>The butter melted on one of the small back burners as the popcorn kernels heated up and popped. Once it was all cooked, Steve put the cover over the air holes in the top of the dome, and flipped the popper over so the popcorn was inside it. Now a bowl, the butter was poured inside in portion, a mix of the popcorn between each slosh so it was all as even as could be. Seasoned with garlic and salt, Bucky carried the giant bowl out to the living room, setting it on the coffee table so he could get the movie set up, since Steve was distracted with Olivia, getting her a drink and then dragged along behind her as she went to go get a blanket for them.</p><p>Bucky was placing the disc in the player as they came back, Steve with a giant purple fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders and trailing over the floor. He and Olivia got settled on the couch, the little girl curling up in his lap, which Bucky didn't mind because he got to drop down directly beside his husband. Bucky, king of the remote, and Steve, keeper of all the blanket. </p><p>When they fully settled, Merida stumbling upon the witch's hut, the blanket was over all three of them, and Steve's arm was around Bucky's shoulders holding him close, leaning against his side with his legs folded up. Olivia, contently holding her stuffed octopus and drinking from the little closed bottle that was deemed as hers, relaxed against the both of them, transfixed by the movie. Loving it so much and this being the first time she's watched it with them, she shook them to make sure they paid attention to her favorite parts. But even then, she fell asleep before it ended, mostly against Steve's chest, but partially on Bucky.</p><p>And when he teared up, Steve didn't say a word, just pulled them into a big group hug that Bucky felt deep in his bones.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Eight ∆ A Tendency For Funerals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dot's funeral was the next weekend. Thankfully, Bucky's black eye had healed up, but he was still nervous about this. He knew Julia well enough, but seeing her other friends was bizarre - and her parents.</p><p>
  <em>Oh god, he had to see her parents.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What if they tried to take Olivia from him?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What if they blamed him?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They couldn't take her away.</em>
</p><p>Bucky got himself ready before he went to help Olivia. Steve was drawing with her, his suit jacket tossed over the back of one of the dining room chairs. They had about two hours before they had to leave, so they could take time in explaining what this all was and getting her ready. He had his index and middle fingers hooked into the heel of his square-toed dress shoes, walking downstairs in soft dress socks.</p><p>He found his husband and daughter mostly as he left them, but now they were sitting on Olivia's bed, atop the covers, and the sleeves of Steve's dress shirt were roles up just past his elbows. He was sketching something for her, as she cuddled against his side to watch, but they both looked up when he came to the doorway. Steve flipped the sketchbook closed and pushed the pencil through the binding, sitting up and pulling Olivia up with him.</p><p>It was so hard to bring it up. There was no good way to. So he eased down on the foot of her bed, gently asking, "Do you know what a funeral is, Liv?" He had adopted the nickname the more Steve used it, and she hasn't yet told him to stop.</p><p>When she didn't answer, Steve gave her a little side hug, a comforting squeeze. She shook her head, and Steve continued with the explanation. "It's a gathering, to honor a loved one that's passed."</p><p>"Your mom's is today," Bucky added on, hating to watch the tears build in her eyes. His own stung, his throat tight. "That's why Steve and I are dressed 'fancy,'" he quoted her from before, when he and Steve had changed shifts and Steve had come down in his suit.</p><p>"Do I have to dress fancy, too?" she asked, voice wavering.</p><p>"It's nice to. But I'm not gonna make you if you really don't want to."</p><p>She pushed away from Steve, slipping off the bed and darting over to her closet. They had to put a pressure rod in, lower down so she could reach. She was happy to pick out her own outfits, but just needed a little help getting into them, so she didn't trip and fall. She reached way in the back and pulled something out, turning to show them. It was a deep blue dress, the collar and sleeves formed with dyed lace, the layers beneath the top of the skirt formed with some tulle. She brought it back to them, whispering, "Mommy liked this one."</p><p>"It's very pretty, honey," Bucky complimented, truthfully. "Do you want anything underneath?" He knew some wore tights or leggings under those types of things.</p><p>She didn't respond, but moved to one of her drawers and found a pair of black leggings. Having it picked out, Bucky got her all dressed up, and then sat her down to french braid her soft brown hair.</p><p>Before they left, they all put on their shoes, Steve and Bucky in their shiny dress and Olivia in cute blue Mary Jane's, the buckle in the shape of a butterfly. They got in the car, Bucky running his thumbs along the monarch butterfly pattern of his daughter's mask, having grabbed it for her before they left the house. Steve reached over the center console for his hand, and Bucky squeezed in response, letting his head fall back against the headrest.</p><p>The funeral home was huge and sprawling, different buildings along the property for different kinds of services. The sign of one had paw prints on it, for pet urns and cremation.</p><p>Dot had been cremated. Julia had texted him that, the two of them having traded numbers the evening they were at the hospital. Bucky took Olivia in one day after his school let out, and he guided her through picking out an urn for her. Julia had a little keepsake urn that was the size of her hand, and a necklace that held some ashes. Bucky felt weird to get anything, but Julia told him to, and he picked out a train-shaped pendant after asking Julia if he could have Dot's charm bracelet. He'd contributed most of those charms. She'd smiled, and said she would bring it to the funeral, when they would all get their sealed urns and items.</p><p>Steve was the one to help Olivia out of the car, unbuckling the seat belt and then staying close in case she tripped as she got herself out of the car. They walked up together, a weird sort of family. An older man in a suit and a surgical mask, barely staying along the tip of his nose, stood in front of the door.</p><p>"Dolores Eynon?" he asked, voice gruff.</p><p>Bucky nodded, and the employee opened the door. "The open doorway to the right. You'll see it."</p><p>"Yeah, and I see too much of your nose," Bucky snapped, walking right past him. Steve and Olivia quickly followed.</p><p>Bucky paused as soon as he saw the open doorway to the room, seeing the back rows of chairs, a TV playing a slideshow of photos of Dot, playing to Hey, Soul Sister. There was a photo of her at her highschool graduation, and then, because of course it would come up during this song, one of her and Bucky, cuddling in a couch with their arms around each other, laughing at something.</p><p>He had been able to pick a song, for the slideshow of his dad. His mom had taken care of the most of it, but Bucky had begged her to include something by Sarah Mclachlan.</p><p>He let out an unsteady breath, as he heard Olivia whisper, "Steve?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Can you pick me up?"</p><p>Bucky turned to watch them, Steve scooping her up into his arms, making sure she was secure with his right around her. She hugged him, arms around his neck, and he ran his left over her back. He didn't say anything, she'd never asked for this so obviously she had a reason. He didn't want to get in the way of that.</p><p>"Okay," he sighed. "We're going in?"</p><p>Olivia nodded her head from under Steve's chin. Bucky nodded to himself, squared his shoulders, and he and Steve walked side by side into the room.</p><p>Dot's family was up at the front, flower arrangements set on the table, an unattended podium to the side. There were a couple more TVs showing the slideshow, Julia sitting at one of the softer pieces of furniture lining the walls and watching one, tears shiny on her cheeks. She was at an angle where she could also see people as they came in, and she turned her head when she noticed them. She waved them forward, standing up from her leather-and-wood-framed chair.</p><p>Dot's parents were looking at him, as he walked down the little side aisle between the wooden fold-ups and the nice furniture. And when Steve followed him with Olivia still in his arms, her father's brow furrowed. At least they were wearing their masks properly. The funeral home probably made them, Bucky figured.</p><p>Bucky had never been the biggest fan of Harold. But he remained irritatingly polite whenever he was invited over for dinner. Diane, however...Bucky never really talked to her. Never in a room alone.</p><p>"James," Harold stonily greeted once they came into earshot. He held out his hand, but Bucky didn't take it, just fixed his lapels and knew it would bother him as he returned;</p><p>"Hank." The crease between his brows deepened. "Been a while."</p><p>"I liked your hair better short,"</p><p>"Yeah, well, hair is hair, I can cut it whenever I'd like."</p><p>"Not for an event like this?" he asked, like it left a bad taste in his mouth.</p><p>"Dot liked it, when I saw her."</p><p>"She was on her deathbed when you saw her."</p><p>"Yeah. And where were you?" Bucky knew that had to be said. Julia's eyes widened above her mask, but she didn't look at all upset.</p><p>Diane stepped between them. "Not now," she chastised, venomous, but turned her gaze to Olivia and Steve. "Who are you?" she asked, obviously referring to Steve.</p><p>"This is my husband, Steve," Bucky introduced. Hank scoffed, and Diane made a little <em>'oh'</em> sound that sounded much more disapproving than reasonable. "Steve, Harold and Diane. Dot's parents."</p><p>"Well..." Diane started, sounding uncomfortable. "How did you two meet?"</p><p>"Airport in North Carolina," Bucky said, tilting his head slightly. Steve leaned down to put Olivia on the ground, who immediately ran up to hug Julia.</p><p>That obviously struck a cord, easy recognition, but they moved past that. Diane went on, "Are you married?"</p><p>"About two and a half years. But we've been together for five."</p><p>"Very <em>happily</em> married, might I add," Steve interjected, voice small and content. His Pleasing Straight White Woman voice, Bucky called it. The soft and sugary that women plastered on to appear more kind.</p><p>"I bet you are," Harold waved off, sounding like he hated their very presence. Bucky was sure he did.</p><p>"Um, James -" Diane started, a little timidly. "Might we bring something up to you?" She eyed Steve, wary and like he was infringing. "Privately."</p><p>"Anything you need to say to me can be said in my husband's presence," he clarified, standing his ground.</p><p>"Well, we're sure that suddenly having a child must infringe on your...lifestyle," she said, carefully, but not careful enough. At Bucky's shoulder, Steve's brows furrowed. "And we want you to consider the option of switching her custody to us."</p><p>Bucky's brows arched, and a surprising, red hot anger burst within him. "<em>Excuse me?</em>" he snapped, unable to help the nasty tone of his voice, all fake pleasantries falling to their deaths.</p><p>"It was very sudden, and she doesn't know you. She's grown up with us -"</p><p>"And you want me to give her to you and let her grow up to be a homophobic, racist piece of shit like the two of you?" He shook his head, so hard that his hair swung around his shoulders. "No."</p><p>"James, she's all we have of Dolor -"</p><p>"Dot didn't even like you!" he exclaimed, so loud that Olivia finally put her attention on the four of them.</p><p>"- and we'd just really appreciate it if you reached to the bottom of your heart and could think about what this would mean to us. We heard about your father -"</p><p>"Don't you <em>fucking</em> dare," he practically snarled, eyes narrowed into a sharp, deadly glare. He couldn't help the overflow of anger that came from him, venomous words that would burn the floor if they landed at his feet; "I am her father. I am her next of kin. I am written in Dot's will as next in line, and it is my parental right. If I refused, then she would go to you. I'm obviously not refusing."</p><p>"But you don't know her -"</p><p>"No, no, no!" he interrupted right back, raising his voice to get her to cut off. "I'm talking right now, I'm not a child, you don't get to shush me for backtalk. Shut up - I didn't know she existed for five years. She's not getting taken away from me again, not now, not ever. My husband and I are treating her very well, we've made a home for her, she feels included. We have friends with kids her age, that we plan to introduce her to once it's safe to. We have a plan. I'm getting stuff done. I have a court date this week, to solidify the custody exchange, make sure it's all official. I'm enrolling her to a new school that has an online program, so she's safe during all this. Fuck you both, for thinking I'm not capable of this. Even then, I have help, and my family is so much more loving than yours has ever been, so don't even try to tell me that you'll love her and teach her love. She'd grow up to be hateful and small minded, just like you two." He took a breath, and added, "Don't even try to fight me for her. What's your standpoint? That she's now being raised by a gay couple? That's ridiculous, and you know it."</p><p>"You can't take care of her like -"</p><p>"Did you tell her to abort? We weren't married, then we broke up - I'd be surprised if you didn't push her to."</p><p>"What's 'abort?'" Olivia loudly whispered, and Bucky followed the sound to see her leaning against Steve's legs, reaching for his hand. He got down on one knee and let her take his hand, holding her protectively under his arm.</p><p>"Nothing you have to worry about, okay? How about we go and see if the urns are ready?"</p><p>"Oh!" Julia went along with it, moving toward Steve and her niece. "Yes, let's go look! Come on, sweetie."</p><p>Steve straightened up again, and he and Julia herded the little girl back out of the funeral room, running into a small group of people that were arriving for the service. Bucky recognized a few of the women, groaning a little before swinging back around to Harold and Diane. He shook his head, and then spun on his heel and darted to follow his family and newfound friend.</p><p>Steve noticed him, and hung back a step to put his arm around Bucky's waist, pulling him close. "You feel better now?"</p><p>"Maybe. It's nice to yell at them. I never got to yell at them." He watched Julia stop the funeral director, speaking to him with Olivia at her side. "They have nothing to fight for her over. What if they make something up?"</p><p>"Like what? That gay men just fuck and that's it? Because all being gay is is sex?"</p><p>The fact hovered between them for a moment, and they both sighed. Bucky finally expressed, "We should get security cameras. Just until this blows over. Proof that she's safe and all that. That we're not, like, exploiting or anything."</p><p>"I'll get something when we get home," Steve assured, squeezing his arm around him. "Everything's gonna be okay, baby. In the long run."</p><p>He leaned his head against Steve's shoulder, looking back in front of him. The director had a paper bag with the logo of the funeral home on each side, and was pulling out the urns. Julia cradled a beautiful cream and lavender marble urn against her belly, making sure it wouldn't fall. Olivia gingerly held an urn of the same size, the medium that was the length of Julia's hand, this one in blue and greens that looked like stained glass. Holding two boxes in her hand, Julia gestured into the funeral room, and the director took the bag inside, giving a little nod to Steve and Bucky as he moved past them.</p><p>Julia walked up, Olivia at her side, and held out the hand with the velvet boxes. "The top one is yours," she clarified, and he took it and popped it open. A necklace sat inside, the golden train pendant shining under the lights around them, the ashes seen through the little windows. He smiled, and closed it. Looking up again, Julia held out the charm bracelet, which he also took.</p><p>"Thank you," he managed to say, but his voice was barely existent past the lump in his throat.</p><p>She smiled. "No problem, Bucky. There was no reason you shouldn't have one."</p><p>He inhaled deeply and let it out as a heavy breath, dropping the charm bracelet into his breast pocket, and then tucking the necklace box away in a large pocket.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nine ∆ Debates and Other Ridiculous Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky's court date was the day of the first Presidential Debate.</p><p>After he got out of the school at four o'clock, he didn't just go home because he'd have to come back out so soon. He didn't want to get comfortable, and he had already dressed up in an actual suit. So he sat in the parking lot for a little while, suit jacket slung carefully over the passenger seat, and called his mother.</p><p>He hadn't called her yet. He kept meaning to. Either something came up or he didn't have the energy. But even then, it was just so hard to tell her this. Steve's parents were different, even though they were family and they would certainly love and care for Olivia, they were a little disconnected.</p><p>Bucky's family had been through a lot. The loss of Wanda's husband and twin boys. George. Bubbe and Zayde. Now this. Something good, yes, but it wasn't at all foreseen and it caused so many huge changes.</p><p>He was waiting until the end of Christmas break to be able to think about seeing his mother and his siblings. Quarantine for two weeks with Steve, now Olivia, and if they were all doing okay then it could be discussed.</p><p>The dial tone ended, and Bucky's head stayed bowed. His phone sat in the cup holder with his wallet and ID lanyard, and his mom's voice came through the SUV's speakers. She sounded so happy as she exclaimed, "Hey, Jamie! Haven't heard from you or Steve for a while, have you guys been okay?"</p><p>Bucky was quiet for a moment, working up the courage to say, "Yeah, um. Mostly. I'm doing something today, soon. And I wanted to tell you before that happens."</p><p>"Oh. Well, I'm all ears."</p><p>"So. Uh. Dot - you remember Dot?" He knew she did, so he kept going. "Well. Apparently she left me in North Carolina because she learned she was pregnant. She was scared of what I would think. I got called to the hospital not even two weeks ago, Dot died. So, um, she's about four and a half. Her name's Olivia. She's been with us since Dot died, Joe and Sarah helped us get her things moved. I have a hearing today to establish custody. I'm next in line, Dot wanted her with me, but the cuntfaces of her parents made it sound like they would fight me for it. At the funeral, they didn't like that Steve was around her, and that I was married to a guy."</p><p>"This all must be really tough for her," she figured, speaking carefully and hesitantly.</p><p>"It really is. And I just - I just feel like I'm doing everything wrong. It seemed like I just waltzed right into her life, I replaced Dot, I made her move. It all feels so wrong." He sniffed, the side of his nose suddenly itching. He continued speaking as he reached up to scratch. "Sarah told me I was doing fine, Steve keeps reassuring me the same thing."</p><p>"Does she like you guys?"</p><p>"She's warming up to me, but she isn't really a fan. She likes Steve a lot. They're home together when I'm at work, so I'm not surprised. He went to the city last week, so Wanda stayed with her." On the other end, Winifred gave a broken hum, and Bucky asked after a moment, "...Mom?"</p><p>"I just -" She broke off, and Bucky only heard silence. But she inhaled shakily, to say, "I can't believe this, honey. I'm - I don't even know what to say."</p><p>Bucky nodded. "I didn't, either. Steve didn't. But we've been figuring it out." He swallowed, hard. "I'm gonna bring her to meet you whenever I can. If it comes to it, we can talk through the screen door. I just want you to see her, Mom. You've gotta see her."</p><p>"I just - I can't believe -" His mother's voice wavered, and the annoying lump began to build in the back of Bucky's throat. She inhaled sharply, and then exhaled shakily. "I can't believe you have a kid, honey. <em>You</em>."</p><p>He scoffed, but his eyes were beginning to fill with tears. "Yeah," he responded, voice manipulated. "Me. Of all people."</p><p>~∆~</p><p>His hearing went well, and it was really just a technicality. He has proof of his name on her birth certificate and the line of custody in Dot's will (those and other documents had left Dot's house with him). The judge granted him official custody by the end, and Bucky couldn't help the wide smile from underneath his mask.</p><p>He stayed out a little bit later, going to the grocery store - Wegmans, a little charming place, but still just a grocery store. Their town of Clarence was small, but not the smallest.</p><p>He got home to see Steve sitting cross-legged on the couch, phone on his thigh, his laptop sitting open on the coffee table in front of him. Sam's voice was rattling through the speakerphone, obviously in a rant. Bucky set his grocery bags down on the kitchen floor, crossing into the living room. Steve smiled when he saw him, and picked up his phone. "Sam, Bucky's here -"</p><p>"You missed history!" he immediately cried. "Jesus fucking christ!"</p><p>"The debate?" Bucky asked, already feeling a long curl of dread.</p><p>"There was no organization to it," Steve said. "I only got the last, what, barely twenty minutes, and even that was awful. Trump went after Biden's dead son."</p><p>Bucky had nothing to say to that beyond a slow, boiling, "What. The. Fuck."</p><p>"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed. "Tangerine Tyrant just kept twisting everything he was saying, and then just kept talking over him, and Biden was trying so hard to not get stuck."</p><p>Bucky was voting for Biden. Either way, it was the democratic party nomination, and that's what he was signed up as. To say that he was terrified of Trump winning a second term was an understatement. He was gay, he was Jewish, he was married. There was a late night conversation they had had recently, before Olivia came into their lives. They'd voiced their fears, and then fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.</p><p>
  <em>"He's going to illegalize gay marriage." Bucky was sure about that, and knew he wasn't wrong. "He has majority lead in the court, they'd approve it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Steve was silent, staring down at the faint outline of their woven fingers in the dark, the golden glow from the bathroom nightlight slipping into the main room. "Do you think it would just be left at future marriages? From this point on, it's illegalized, but all the old ones get to stay."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"That would be redundant," he whispered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, and let his head fall completely back into the pillows they were propped up on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"They'd probably be, like, dissolved?" he guessed. "Just...they don't exist anymore."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"...So which one of us is changing their gender marker?" Steve asked, a flat sarcasm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bucky snorted. "I'll take one for the team," he promised, and tilted his head to seek out a sweet kiss.</em>
</p><p>That was something they were still scared of, and would only know what to do with that fear once the election came to a close.</p><p>The idea that they could be torn away from each other just made them hold on tighter.</p><p>Bucky dropped a quick kiss on the top of Steve's head, and then ran his fingers through his golden locks as he pulled away. "I'll put the stuff away in a minute," he assured in a gentle whisper, before he was out of reach, leaving Sam and Steve to continue talking as he made his way back to Olivia's bedroom. He carefully pushed open the cracked door, a beam of light angling just over her bed. He watched her head raise up, and he opened it more to walk in.</p><p>"Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, easing down to sit on the bed, at her feet.</p><p>She nodded, her hair messed up from tossing and turning. "Steve was swearing." She said it as if it was taboo and she knew she was tattling. To her, that was definitely the situation.</p><p>Bucky couldn't help the light laugh that came from him. Of course he was. "He kept you up?"</p><p>"No, I just heard."</p><p>"Okay, good. I'd have to give him a stern talking to. Put him in timeout." She giggled, and Bucky just felt so utterly accomplished. "Anything I can do to help you fall asleep, honey?"</p><p>"Mommy would sometimes give me melatony."</p><p>Bucky took a moment to decipher that. "Melatonin," he corrected, speaking slow and enunciating.</p><p>"Me-la-to-ny," she echoed him, but didn't finish the word correctly.</p><p>You know what? Close enough. "I only have the really strong stuff," he told her. "Two pills knock Steve out when his insomnia acts up."</p><p>"Mommy has insomnia." The present tense saddened him, and he didn't bother say anything. "She said that it, it was the cancer. It kept her up."</p><p>He nodded. "Yeah, I'd imagine it would." He brainstormed for a few moments, reaching for one of Olivia's stuffed animals. It was a big fat sock monkey. He held it against his chest and hugged it, unintentionally mimicking Olivia as she held Denise, the purple octopus with the bright green underside. Finally, he came up with, "I gotta go change and put away groceries, but I have nail polish, if you're interested?" He had a small collection, the actions sometimes calmed him, and over the years he had gotten more comfortable with his liking to pretty things. "And I can get Steve to let me paint his as long as I let him pick the color."</p><p>"We can do that," she mildly agreed.</p><p>"Awesome. I'm gonna go get my PJs on, how about you go and give Steve a really big hug? I think he'd really like that."</p><p>"Okay!" she happily went along with it, throwing back her comforter and slipping off the side of the bed, to run along. With a gentle laugh, Bucky followed her out of the room, but headed upstairs so he could get himself around. Partway up, he heard Steve let out a loud grunt, and then a mix of laughter from two of the most important people in Bucky's world.</p><p>Bucky closed the door behind him and stripped down to his boxer briefs and socks, setting the nice clothes aside so he could properly deal with them when he had the chance. He put on a pair of Steve's pajama pants, tying the draw strings into a bow as he made his way to the bathroom. He squatted down and pulled his little nail kit basket out from under the sink, pushing himself back up as he closed the cabinet door. He set the basket down on the open space of the sink, sighing as he looked in the mirror. He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along his neck, feeling the prickles of hair growing back in after he had cleanly shaved this morning.</p><p>Bucky didn't quite feel like himself. His dark circles were much more present, giving him the appearance of sunken eyes. He'd been breaking out in his stress zone, where the lines of a dummy's mouth were. Overthinking about Dot's parents trying to fight him for custody, hating the precautionary security cameras that Steve ordered and placed in the main rooms, including their bedroom. They were just to make sure that whatever they may or may not be accused of could be proven wrong.</p><p>He was a dad. It was hard to make sense of that. But he just wanted to protect and take care of his little girl. Now that he had her, he wasn't ever letting go.</p><p>He sniffled, and raised both hands to pull his hair out of the tight ponytail he had pulled it into this morning. Strands had come loose throughout the day, but the holder itself was still wound tight. As the locks tumbled down to rest over his shoulders, a relieved sigh left him. He pushed the holder down over his wrist and picked up the nail kit so he could leave the bathroom, flicking off the light. He pulled on another article of Steve's, this one being one of the most paint-stained sweatshirts he owned, and, finally all set, headed back downstairs. He immediately heard them laughing and giggling, and when he dropped off the stairs and rounded the corner, he saw Steve holding Olivia hostage in his embrace, squeezing her and blowing a raspberry against her cheek, that made her squeal.</p><p>"Steve," Bucky reprimanded, resting his left hand on his hip and cocking into it, "this was supposed to calm her down, not rile her up."</p><p>He immediately pouted, and locked the little girl in his arms. She hugged his bicep, giggling against the sleeve of his long-sleeve shirt. Bucky rolled his eyes and dropped the nail kit down on the table, turning to go and out away the groceries before Steve stopped him with a quick;</p><p>"Oh, Buck, I went and got those out of the way."</p><p>He spun back around, a thankful smile on his lips. God, Steve was incredible, even if it was something small like this. He picked the kit back up and moved around the coffee table, sitting down on the open side of the couch. "Alright, guys." He held out the kit. "Pick your colors."</p><p>Olivia peered in and rifled through, as Steve shook his head. Bucky quirked his brow, and the blond softly explained, "I'm painting a lot tomorrow, I don't want to ruin your work."</p><p>Bucky accepted that answer with a nod and an understanding smile, and reached to run his fingertips over Steve's cheek. '<em>Love you,' </em>he mouthed.</p><p>
  <em>'Love you more.'</em>
</p><p>"Sparkly blue!" Olivia sharply sat up, and Bucky took the bottle she held out to him. Steve let her go so she could shift to the center cushion. As she got comfortable and held Denise out to Steve, who took it with complete pride, Bucky shook the bottle and listened to the little click inside.</p><p>~∆~</p><p>After they put Olivia back down, the married couple retired to the upstairs. Bucky stopped back in front of the bathroom mirror, applying a fast action acne cream to his stress zone. Steve was talking to him from the bedroom, about everything and anything.</p><p>"You and Olivia had a good day?" Bucky asked to check in, since he'd been gone for so long of it.</p><p>"Oh, yeah! We worked on these educational coloring books that Dot got her. The ones before preschool are done, but there are some shapes and writing stuff. She's pretty good at writing her name, and she can name a good amount of the colors and shapes."</p><p>"That's the next order of business. I gotta call that preschool that's offering the online program, get her enrolled. I'm in that germ-fest everyday, we don't need twice the risk. And with you going to the city still, that's even more." He turned on the water and pumped some of the foaming hand soap into his palm, washing his hands clean of the cream as he spoke. "It's just, what, four days a week, three hours each day? I can do that when I get home from work. You have your job, too, I'm not gonna ask you to do that when you're already losing out on time because you're home all day with her."</p><p>"I've got the base for those paintings done. Now I just need to add detail. Tony said that he can come pick them up and take them in, so I can get back to my Etsy commissions." Steve stepped into the bathroom and put his arms around Bucky's waist, resting his hands on the brunet's stomach. "I'm gonna draw you on a canvas tomorrow. Haven't painted you for a little while." He brushed his lips over the column of his throat, working a gasp from Bucky's lips.</p><p>"What color scheme are you gonna do?" Bucky gently murmured, tilting his face toward Steve's, humoring him. They haven't really had quality alone time lately, so exhausted by their days that they just fell asleep when they managed to get Olivia down for the count. They weren't having sex either, not feeling comfortable under the eye of the security camera and not quite okay with the idea of it while Olivia was still settling in. But, she had only woken them up once during the middle of the night, because she couldn't sleep and wanted a hug from Steve.</p><p>Steve hummed, letting his chin drop into the crook of Bucky's neck. Bucky rested his hands overtop Steve's, and leaned back into his solid chest. He had gone with a sparkly red to rival Olivia's blue, while Steve had stuck with nothing to the very end. "I'm thinking...purples. Pink and red based, maroon and dark magentas."</p><p>"No face, so you can sell prints?" Sometimes Steve sold paintings of Bucky, that didn't depict a full face, or just showed his body in some pose. When they were sold, Steve always kept the originals. He didn't feel comfortable with giving that away.</p><p>"Maybe. I'm still working it out." He lifted his chin up to turn his head down and kiss Bucky's shoulder. He slipped his hands down toward the waist of the pajama pants Bucky wore, getting his fingers underneath it and then the waistband of Bucky's boxer briefs. Steve's left hand gripped his hip, the right reaching further down. The first brush of fingertips against his cock surprised a gasp out of him, and he dragged his own hand up from Steve's, resting on his forearm.</p><p>"This okay?" the blond whispered, before he went too far.</p><p>"Crack the door," Bucky practically ordered. Steve's hands left his pajamas and he tore away to do as instructed. Bucky rested his hands on the counter in front of the sink, taking a moment to compose himself before he turned to the linen closet. He pulled it open and reached up to the top shelf, where there was a bottle of KY Lube and a box of condoms. Secret stash, you could say, that was pushed back behind an extra box of Q-Tips and bodywash bottles when they had people coming over. He moved to close the cabinet after taking the bottle and tearing a condom off the strand, but Steve grabbed the door before he could.</p><p>"What?" Bucky asked, all indignant beside the lube and condom in his hand.</p><p>He reached in. "Towel," he said, as he held up the object and let it unfurl. "We don't need your jizz dripping down our nice cabinets."</p><p>Bucky cocked his head. That happened the last time they had done this. "When was the last time you fucked me in front of the mirror?"</p><p>Steve smirked, and shook out there rest of the folds in the towel. "I know the first time was when we christened the house." He plucked the lube and condom out of Bucky's hands, and tossed the towel over the brunet's shoulder. A trade. "Now strip and bend over, my love."</p><p>"My pleasure." He set the towel down on the sink, and then turned back around to grab Steve by the face and firmly kiss him. Steve pulled him completely flush, large hands on the small of Bucky's back. He pushed his fingers down the back of Bucky's pants and boxers, gripping his ass and squeezing. Bucky let out a very dignified yelp when his feet no longer had tile or bath mat beneath them, Steve's hands slipping to his thighs now that he was perched on the sliver of counter in front of the sink. He tilted his head back for Steve, sighing at the press and drag of lips over his skin, legs framing the blond's waist. "How about we go like this?" he suggested, desperately wanting to kiss Steve and suck at his soul - or his tongue, if he was honest - while he was wrecked. He could see the dark shadow of Steve's eyes, could tell that his legs would be shaking by the time they were done.</p><p>Steve caught him in a violent kiss, coming in so hard that Bucky's shoulders hit the mirror behind his back. Bucky's fingers tightened in the back of Steve's hair, earning an honest-to-god rumble from the back of his throat. The words that followed were ones that Bucky wasn't at all surprised by, but wasn't really expecting; "I want you to watch through the mirror."</p><p>Bucky could only nod, and that was just barely. Steve curled his fingers around the waistband of Bucky's boxers and pajamas, and Bucky tilted his hips so his husband could jerk them down his thighs, and let them fall to the floor from his feet. Steve pushed his own down to his knees, and they fell in a loose pile that was kicked out of the way. Steve placed his hands back on his hips and guided him down from the sink, feet sinking into the soft yellow bath mat they kept in front of it, then guiding him to turn around.</p><p>If he was honest, it felt so good to let Steve take the wheel, after he laid the towel down.b For the past, what, almost two weeks, Bucky had been white-knuckling it and carrying so much guilt over anything and everything he did. Steve brushed it all away with his sweet little kisses and the rouge suction of skin between his teeth, Bucky's mind going mostly blank at the click of the lube cap. He pressed his hands to the countertop, hips slightly tilted, and just waited for Steve's touch. Steve's love. Steve's desire.</p><p>Bucky made quiet sounds as he was worked open, Steve's free hand so unbelievably gentle against his hip, thumb rubbing at the small of his back. A gasp hitched in his throat at the first brush against his prostate, but when Steve found it again and firmly rubbed at it, that gasp fully released and turned into a high whimper. Though Steve was always so careful and thorough, it seemed to be over so fast, his fingers leaving him and the sudden feeling of emptiness replacing it. But Steve's fingers squeezed at his hips, and he felt the brush of one of his knuckles against his ass before the head of his cock came to his hole.</p><p>Bucky tightened his hold on the sink at the breach, the stretch that he absolutely loved, had since they had stripped the bed down in the hotel room in North Carolina, the very first time that Bucky had ever had anybody inside him. And Steve did what he always did, moving slow, shifting back and forth to gently coax the muscle to relax.</p><p>His grip loosened, as Steve finally brought his right hand to Bucky's hip, framing the bones. And despite himself, and how good Steve already felt, Bucky snorted and dropped his head. "This is ridiculous," he laughed, but it came to an end as Steve pushed further inside of him.</p><p>Steve took a handful of his hair by the roots and guided his head back up, ensuring that Bucky would keep watching through the mirror. "But so hot." As if in punctuation, he scraped his teeth over Bucky's neck.</p><p>"Oh yeah, <em>so</em> hot," he agreed, squeezing his fingers around the edge of the sink. "I feel bad for fucking in front of the penguins."</p><p>"Buck," Steve sounded so exasperated that he started laughing again, "forget about the penguins."</p><p>"What do you want me to think about, then?"</p><p>"How about my dick?" He pushed his hips forward, and Bucky canted his own in response. Steve, fully seated inside him, gripped his hips with white-knuckles and pushed even further inside, and the two of them let out synchronized moans.</p><p>"Such good ideas, baby," Bucky appreciated, breathless as he got used to the press of Steve's cock inside him, the pressure in the roots of his hair. Fuck the penguins, he could think about this any day.</p><p>Without warning, Steve pulled back, but not out, and thrusted his hips forward. A gasp billowed from Bucky's parted lips, his head tipping back as he bent forward at the hips. Steve set their rhythm, some devastating pace that was neither fast nor slow, rubbing up against Bucky's prostate enough times to make Bucky wish he was going harder, faster, fucking him in the way Steve's darkened eyes often promised but wasn't fully given to him.</p><p>Steve didn't want to hurt him. Bucky understood. But one thing's for sure - Bucky Barnes was not fragile. Never had been, and never will be.</p><p>"Faster." The supposed question came out as a demand, and Steve didn't even hesitate now that the want had been voiced. Bucky's ass almost stung, from Steve's pistoning hips, but that was just a necessary evil. He couldn't care. Not when the cock inside him filled him up so nice, reaching every nice place, melting Bucky's bones until the only thing keeping him up was Steve and the sink.</p><p>Steve pushed his face just above Bucky's left shoulder blade, forehead pressed into the skin behind his shoulder, warm breaths billowing against Bucky's shining olive skin. His prostate was nailed, the lovechild of a whine and moan punching out of his throat, and Steve let out a deep groan. "Jesus - fuck, baby -"</p><p>"Thought you wanted to look at me?" Bucky's gaze had loyally stayed trained on the mirror, our came back to focus after opening his eyes again.</p><p>Steve stopped moving, and fuck, did Bucky want to whimper. He was desperate, but that wasn't going to come out, over his dead body. The blond craned his head forward, lips brushing over the shell of Bucky's ear. He murmured, low under his breath, words holding the weight of an unknown promise, "You want me to look at you?"</p><p>Bucky removed his right hand from the sink, and brought it back, palm pressed to the back of Steve's. "Want you to look at me." He started to pull his hand forward, guiding Steve's fingers along his skin until they came to his cock, neglected and left to rest against the towel-covered sink, little wet spots dotted along the fabric from when Steve a thrusts had made him move. "Want you to touch me."</p><p>Without hesitation, Steve's hand wrapped around the base and squeezed, turning Bucky's legs further into wobbling jelly. "We can work with that, baby." He touched a gentle kiss to the back crook of Bucky's neck, and then got back to work with a new rigor, moving harder, faster, working Bucky over with the same fingers that had stretched him open.</p><p>Bucky came with a moan that he barely tampered down, trembling in Steve's strong arms, lips obscenely parted as he still, unflinchingly, kept his eyes trained on Steve. It only took a few more moments before his husband tumbled over the edge, following Bucky's example, wrapping his arms securely around his abdomen and pressing his forehead to the nape of his neck.</p><p>"Oh god, I missed you," Steve suddenly whispered, hushed and passionate against Bucky's skin, the ends of his hair.</p><p>A little dumbly, Bucky chuckled. "You've had me."</p><p>"Yeah. And that's still great, baby." He raised his head up and nosed at Bucky's hair, before pressing a soft kiss to the back of his skull. "But not like that, recently."</p><p>He inhaled deeply and resituated himself, leaning back against Steve's chest. His cock still pressed close, beginning to go soft, the condom awkwardly filled inside him. But he didn't mind, didn't want to let Steve go. Not yet. Letting his head fall back against one of Steve's broad shoulders, he quietly said, "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be." A soft kiss landed on his temple, then his cheekbone, the little space in front of his ear. It was as if Steve had planned these, like thumbtacks in a map. "Makes it special."</p><p>A tired smile spread over Bucky's lips, and Steve caught the corner of his mouth with his own. So Bucky tilted his head closer, so their lips could press and they could smile at each other, together.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Ten ∆ High Holidays Unite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, peeps! I'm so sorry that this took a bit longer, but I've had some stuff to prioritize and deal with. I found a medication that actually helps, and I've been able to write again! I got some one-shots out recently, and now I was finally able to do this (: thank you for being patient, I love you all, and I hope you enjoy what's coming up 💛</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky had few regrets in life.</p><p>One, despite knowing he had no control of the events that transpired: not being in his daughter's life. Seeing her born. Hearing her first word. First steps. First smile. First laugh. Everything.</p><p>Two: not hugging his dad the last time he had seen him, before the heart attack. But they had smiled and said I love you, with their arms full. Bucky holding the heavy Crock Pot, George hugging Sam and Natasha's adorable German Shepherd mutt.</p><p>Three: sending Tyler Moore that love letter in middle school. He would never, ever live that humiliation down. He regretted it the second he couldn't get it back.</p><p>Four: not meeting Steve sooner. Whenever their paths had or almost crossed. They had quickly learned that they've been so close, but never connected.</p><p>Bucky stared at the framed picture of his dad. Senior photo, one of the main family favorites and Bucky's personal. He reached up to readjust it from where the duster had knocked it out of place, knuckles brushing against the side of the small urn, no taller than the length of Bucky's hand. A marble washed with a deep green and a slate blue, with veins of darker blue and green and gold. The red cardinals rested on their sides behind them, shown between the gold frame and urn, the trimmed ends of the sticks remnants of how they'd been stuck into a pot of red carnations. The bush was loved and cared for in a sunny spot in his mother's sunroom.</p><p>Bucky got real sentimental around the holidays. His dad really had no clue what all he was getting into, marrying into a Jewish family, but he had loved it and accepted everything. Bucky and his sister grew up celebrating Christmas and other Americanized holidays alongside the holidays of their heritage, the Russian and Middle Eastern Jewish that ran in their veins. Just as Steve had been so ready to dive in and learn all the meanings for the holidays and how to celebrate them.</p><p>Yom Kippur was one of Bucky's favorites. Even if it made him so sad. It made him think about those regrets, how his life would've been if he didn't have those and life had gone that way. How to balance his already strong unconditional love for his daughter, and the beautiful thing he had with Steve, to make everything he cared for work as a cohesive unit in his life.</p><p>To make things matters worse, he couldn't exactly see his mom, sister, niece, and his two favorite cousins for it. It was coming up to near a year of the shitty pandemic, March was when his school closed and now it was fucking October - all because of those who didn't want to put a piece of fabric on their face. Boo-fucking-hoo.</p><p>And he hated that Christmas and Easter were added to his Google Calendar with a click of a button, but not even Hanukkah (because of course one of the least religious of the holidays was one of the best known) was included. But Steve wrote them all in when they got a physical calendar for the year, that they kept in the kitchen with a cup of colorful gel pens beside it. 2020 was puppy themed. Sometimes, Bucky skipped to the August photo if he needed a little temporary pick-me-up.</p><p>He had taken the day off for the first day of his favorite holiday. He hadn't pushed the new holidays on Olivia, that was too big of a change that he knew she wasn't ready for. Even if Dot did include anything Jewish as she was growing up, it would've been small things, nothing from the high holidays. He was going to ease in slow. Start with Sukkot, which in their situation was basically pre-Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and then they could hopefully do some sort of Purim party by the time February twenty fifth and sixth came around. Steve was home, Olivia was filling out her booklets and Bucky was just tidying some things up while she didn't need him. But he'd come when she called.</p><p>As long as she wanted him, he always would.</p><p>His dad's little memorial shelf fixed up to his liking, Bucky stepped away and returned the duster to its place in a cabinet in the laundry room. He came back and sat on the floor beside his daughter, watching as she traced the letters on the page with a pink crayola marker. He propped his elbow up on on the couch cushion behind him and learned his temple against his knuckles, an absent-minded smile on his lips.</p><p>"Bucky?" she suddenly asked.</p><p>He sat up, dropping his hands into his crossed lap. He had read some things during his downtime at work, and one had been to always show your kid attention so they know they would always have it. Usually it was for babies, not leaving them to cry it out, but they were still new to each other and they had to build that trust. So far, Bucky could tell things were getting better. "Yeah, sweetie?"</p><p>"What's your favorite color?"</p><p>He pursed his lips, humming. "Red or blue, but I also really like purple."</p><p>"Like Denise?" The purple and green octopus sat in her room, ready for bed later on or whenever Olivia would want her.</p><p>He cracked a wide grin. "Yeah, like Denise. But she's also bright green, which is one of Steve's favorite colors."</p><p>Olivia reached for the dark purple marker, close to the deep violent of the stuffed octopus, to rival the pastel green of her underside. She muttered, "B..." and stared down at the page, concentrating as she wrote a shaky B in the workspace on the page. The rest followed, Bucky urging her when needed, until his name was on the page in the assured, though beginning, handwriting.</p><p>Bucky had never been more proud of anything or anyone.</p><p>~∆~</p><p>"My family is Jewish," he began to explain. "You know what Christianity is?"</p><p>"They have Christmas and Easter," she easily responded, hands on the seat of the wooden chair between her knees as she leaned toward him, feet kicked up.</p><p>"Yes," he confirmed. "That's called a religion, and Christmas and Easter are their holidays. Steve's family celebrates them. You met Grandma Sarah and Papa Joe when we went to your house."</p><p>"That's Stevie's mommy and daddy."</p><p>"Yeah. Well, my mommy's Jewish, so that means I am. And I'm your dad, so you are, too. And we have our own holidays. And guess what? Some of ours last more than one day!"</p><p>Steve scoffed from the other dining room chair, shaking his head, rolling his eyes as Olivia asked, "Do we get presents?"</p><p>"Sometimes," Bucky answered. "Hanukkah is in December, and my parents always give us one present for each of the eight days. And I'll take sure you get eight, too, sweetie." They were still going to do Christmas, Bucky grew up celebrating it for his dad and then continued it with Steve and his in-laws. But he could still work his little Jew-y magic and try and make it good for his girl. "But this holiday is Sukkot. It goes on for seven days. Today's the first day. It's a celebration of harvest and the protection God gave our people when they were traveling for a long time, years ago. It's kind of like Thanksgiving."</p><p>"Mommy says Thanksgiving is stupid and racist."</p><p>Across the table, Steve made a garbled sound, a laugh that was attempted to be muffled and stopped. Red in his face from the failed attempt, he finally said, "She's not wrong. But in modern time, Thanksgiving is mostly about family and gathering people. And that's what a lot of the Jewish holidays are about."</p><p>"If we didn't have the virus, we'd be at my mom's house. But, since this is your first one and it's a nice beginning holiday, we're gonna do it yourselves. All seven days. And today and tomorrow, we light these candles," he gestured to the two orange candles in the middle of the table, unlit until it was officially sundown, for the next few minutes. They sat in front of the mini Sukkoh he made years ago, the hut that the holiday was named after, "and then we're gonna make a fort later and watch a movie. Does that sound good?"</p><p>She nodded her head, and Bucky grinned.</p><p>"And there's one more thing," he said, standing up and retreating into the kitchen. He picked the fresh bread up from the counter by the cutting board it sat on, and brought it over to rest on the open space in front of him on the dining table. "This is challah bread. It's special. It's braided, not just a boring loaf you'd find at the store. And it has some stuff that normal bread doesn't have in it."</p><p>Bucky preferred challah over any other bread, even more when it was fresh from himself or his mom. He didn't bring the traditional honey out that was specified for the challah in the first two days, because he had never eaten it and he honestly wasn't able to get the bottle open earlier, which he refused to admit ever admit to Steve unless they were cooking together. Which they were, but he never had to know.</p>
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